


only you can set my heart on fire

by harrysprostate



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, M/M, Paris (City), Recreational Drug Use, Writer Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysprostate/pseuds/harrysprostate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the prompt "zayn and harry get high together"</p>
            </blockquote>





	only you can set my heart on fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [officiallylexie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/officiallylexie/gifts).



> immense thank you to everybody who helped make this fic possible, betas, cheerleaders, friends, you know who you are.
> 
> written for officiallylexie

          It's calming, watching the rhythmic flurries fill the ground with a soft layer of fresh snow. It was gorgeous, and if Harry had been in a better frame of mind maybe he would've gone outside to truly experience it. He's not, though, he's feeling really poorly, actually, because even though he's in Paris he was told by his editor that he was looking for love in the wrong places. The same editor who was supposed to finally help him get his big break. Whatever.

  
With a soft exhale, Harry allowed his eyes to wander around the small cafe. He hated coffee shops, and being in Paris didn't change that. See, he was looking for inspiration, but he was still staring at the blank notebook in front of him. It was routine. He spent his days wandering around the cities of Paris, striving for connections, experiences, anything that would give him inspiration. He always came up blank. Feelings of guilt were a constant overtone for Harry, and that same guilt was reinforced with every one of his failures.

  
The loud chatter coming from the tables nearby made his heart ache, especially when he saw the delighted children with their families and the love sick couples gazing into each others eyes. He hadn’t seen his family since he first moved to Paris almost two years ago. Fresh out of university, Harry packed up his bags and brought his hopes and dreams to the city of love. They had all been supportive, but that wasn’t the point. They were so hopeful that Harry would do amazing things, and all Harry did was let them down.

  
Deciding that air would be helpful, Harry packed up his bag and slipped into his jacket. The front door opened just as Harry was about to slip out of it, making him almost collide with what was possibly the most attractive guy he'd ever laid eyes on. He smelt of cigarettes and expensive cologne and was dressed in a leather jacket. The strangers intense dark eyes and chiseled features were all Harry could focus on. He knew it wasn't polite to stare, he knew he was blocking people from entering or leaving by standing here and gaping at this man, but somehow that didn't register. The guy noticed, of course he did. It was hard not to. His eyes were raking up and down Harry’s body but Harry supposed it was deserved. It wasn't until he heard chatter again that he realized that his ears had been ringing. With a softly whispered, "Sorry," Harry ducked his head down and exited the shop to brave the rapidly cascading snow. He normally hated the cold, but today it didn't bother him. It took the edge off his embarrassingly warm body, which Harry tried valiantly not to acknowledge. Harry was in Paris, attempting to write a book. He wasn't here to develop crushes on mysterious guys in cafes. Even though that very mysterious guys face hadn't yet left Harry's brain.  
  


~

  
The rusty door to Harry's dingy apartment didn't budge, even after he pushed roughly against it with his shoulder. With a sigh, Harry knocked on the door before slipping his hands into his jacket pockets while he waited. The door shook when it opened, revealing his roommates smirking face.

  
"Trying to keep me out in the cold?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow as he stepped inside. The door rattled as he shut it, but Harry paid it no mind. A shitty door wasn't the worst of his problems.

  
"I was doing things. You weren't supposed to be home until later." Harrys roommate, Nick, shrugged. Nick and Harry had best mates and roommates ever since Uni, and they decided to continue that tradition in Paris. The apartment was shit, but it was cheap and Harry wasn't complaining. He was with his best friend, nothing else about it really mattered.

  
"Change in plans," Harry informed him shortly. He busied himself by taking off his jacket and gloves so he didn't have to explain why he rushed home. His best friend could see right through him, as he was always able to.

           Harry noticed the frown on Nicks face out of the corner of his eye. He knew, knowing Nick the question would come soon enough.

           "What happened with the editor?” his friend asked gently. Harry shook his head as he clenched his jaw tightly. He made a big deal out of kicking off his shoes and shaking out his hair wordlessly.

            "Right. Well. That editor’s a prick, you already know that though." Nick sighed softly while he eyed the other man.

           Deciding not to comment on that, Harry walked right past Nick and towards the kitchen, specifically the liquor cabinet. Alas, Nick quickly intercepted him.

          "None of that. Don't use up our supply. Go take a bath and then I'll take you to the new bar that just opened a few blocks away."

  
Harry stayed stubbornly silent, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards a bit as he walked towards the bathroom, so Nick considered that a win.  
~  
Like most bars, it was loud and crowded. Drunken bodies were pressed against one another, making it impossible to try and maneuver through the room.

  
"This is sick," Harry tried to whisper to Nick, instead having to basically yell into his ear to be heard.

  
"I told you. C’mon." Nick grinned over at Harry before proceeding to pull him through the crowd and over to the bartender.

  
All of the drinks were French and fancy, Harry noticed once he scanned the menu. He was out of his element, but he tried not to dwell on that. He also tried not to dwell on the fact that everything in this fucking town was out of his league. Not to mention the fact that even his profession was way out of his league. See, everything Harry had ever known was out of his league, everything he had ever wanted, and he was stuck with the constant responsibility of playing catch up. Harry was almost grateful for the distraction that pulled him from his thoughts, even though it was an unrecognizable voice speaking into his ear: "Know what you want, sweetheart?” As soon as Harry spun around, he was met with the gorgeous guy he had embarrassed himself in front of in the cafe.

  
Even more embarrassingly, all Harry could do was stare. He was a writer, his profession focused on articulating sentences, and yet he was speechless.

  
"Um," Harry blurted out, thankful for the dim lights of the club that hopefully masked the color rising to his cheeks.

  
The guy looked amused, which, in retrospect wasn't unreasonable. He looked like some sort of God, he was allowed to be cocky. Harry didn't appreciate being seen as a flustered idiot, though.

  
"My name isn't sweetheart," was what Harry decided to say to the man. It was delayed and probably not very clever, but it made the other guy chuckle. A stupid sense of pride bubbled up inside him at that, but Harry ignored it completely.

  
The man didn't give any response besides his laugh, and even in the loud bar, the silence between them was noticeable. The mans eyes never left Harrys face, specifically his lips.

  
Subtlety wasn't in this guys vocabulary, Harry found out after watching the guy lick his lips repeatedly. It should've amused Harry, with how similar to amateur porno it was. Instead it made him hot. He supposed it had something to do with the guy looking like he was fresh off the runway, though.

  
"So what's your name?" Harry managed to blurt out, surprised at how weird and out of place his voice sounded in the seemingly thick air.  
   

The other mans smirk didn't falter at the question. "Zayn," he answered, amusement clear in his voice. "What about yours? Since you aren't too fond of the name sweetheart." There was an accent in Zayn's voice that Harry couldn't quite place. He supposed it was because he was too captivated by his eyes.  
  


"Harry," he said, softly, as he placed a hand on the table in front of him.  
  


Immediately, Zayn took the opportunity to casually place his hand over Harry's. "Nice. So do you dislike pet names or do you just like your first name?"  
  


A soft laugh escaped Harrys lips before he quickly shook his head. "Don't call me a pet name unless we're sleeping together." He let Zayns hands linger on his for a moment before pulling back. He wanted to get his attention.

Zayn cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Would you like to arrange that?"

Harry scoffed a little, heat rushing through his body and embarrassingly enough to his cock at the suggestion. "You wish," Harry mumbled out, as if he was appalled by the question. Internally, Harry cringed. He was far from inexperienced, he didn't know why this guy made him slip into a seemingly virginal state.  
  


"Yeah, I do," Zayn agreed without any form of protest. "I've found it's best to be pretty blunt when discussing things that you want."  
  


"So you're saying that I'm something that you want?" Harry asked quietly, gazing up at Zayn through his lashes.

Zayn nodded. "Yes, you are something that I want," he spoke bluntly, but smoothly, like his words were rehearsed.  
  


Harry broke his gaze away from Zayns and nodded slowly. "I figured."  
  


Zayn shook his head. "Wrong answer. You were supposed to say your wish is my command. Are you bad at taking commands? That would be a damn shame."  
  


With Zayns words practically knocking the wind out of him, Harry struggled to keep up. His cock was hardening and a feeling of desperation overcame him. "No. I've been told I'm excellent at taking commands. Along with taking other things."  
  


Chuckling at that, Zayn asked, "So you'll listen to me if I tell you to order the cognac?"  
  


"I think that depends."  
  


"On?"  
  


Harry slightly smiled up at Zayn. "Depends on if I get to tell you if I enjoy the drink or not."

"I can assure you I would never recommend something I thought you would dislike. But I'll humor you, and let you give me your opinion."  
  


Harry hummed at that, trying to be casual as he asked, "Alright. When will that be? When can I tell you?"  
  


As if he was thinking about it, the man waited a moment to respond. "When I see you again." Zayn shrugged nonchalantly.  
  


"Which will be when?" Harry pushed, not wanting to sound too forward, but also not wanting to let this man slip through his fingers.  
  


Zayns smirk returned. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. It'll be soon."  
  


With flush returning to his cheeks, Harry nodded slowly. "Promise?"  
  


“Je te promets," Zayn hummed, the French rolling off his tongue with such ease, smugness clear in his voice and stature.

Harry gulped. "So what brings you to France?" he asked, quickly.

"Opportunity," Zayn replied almost immediately, in a seemingly distant tone.  
  


Harry raised an eyebrow at that. So was he, but somehow he knew that Zayn and him had different things in mind. "How's that working out for you?"  
  


Zayn shot a slight smile at Harry before shrugging a bit, "Depends on how you look at it.”

The curly headed man quirked a smile. "True. So is your glass half full or half empty?"  
  


"I'm still trying to answer that question. But your glass will be completely empty in seconds if you order what I told you to get. It's excellent."  
  


With a sly smile, Harry hummed in agreement. "I guess now we'll see if you can offer me things that I'll enjoy."  
  


Dark eyes focused on Harry, Zayn squeezed Harry's fingers a little. "Let me know if my offer was to your satisfaction."  
  


Harry looked up at Zayn, letting out a soft "Oh," when he saw that Zayn had leaned in. "So I'll see you around," Harry managed out, practically breathing into Zayns mouth at this point.  
  


Zayn leaned in just a little more, so that their lips were just grazing each other's. "Bye, sweetheart," he whispered, before pulling back completely and disappearing into the crowd.  
  


Admittedly, it took Harry an embarrassing amount of time to wrap his brain around what had just happened. His eyes kept flickering around the bar, from his hand to the curious bartender who was hovering near the spaced out man.  
  


"What can I get for you, sir?" the bartender asked, when Harry finally cleared his throat and nodded.  
  


"I'm gonna have the cognac, please."  
~  
Hunched over the bathroom with a throbbing head and a churning stomach, Harry realized he was an idiot. It was usually in this position that he realized such things. In all honesty, though, he had fucked up. Harry was in Paris to write a book and finally make it big, not go to bars and take advice from mysterious men. God, he even cringed at the thought. He had taken advice from a random guy about what drink he should buy. The drink was good, but that wasn’t the point. Regardless of how the drink tasted, he wasn’t going to let that deter him from his goal. He already let the guy in once, and frankly that scared Harry. He couldn't get attached. The stakes were too high.

~  
Thankfully Nick, upon entering the room, was nice enough to resist laughing even though Harry was well aware that he wanted to. “I’m guessing you had a good night, then.”   
  


"I don't understand how you're functioning right now," Harry groaned out as he clutched his stomach, as if that would soothe the pain.  
  


"Oi. I didn't drink half my body weight last night. Unlike some people," Nick quipped with a grin before he easily picked Harry up.  
  


"Didn't drink that much," Harry insisted, before groaning at the way his sensitive stomach protested to the movement.  
  


"Right. Of course." Nick was careful not to move Harry too suddenly, even warned him when he was about to sit him down on the couch.  
  


"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Harry asked, from where his body was slumping against Nicks.  
  


Nick pretended to think, using the silence to pet Harrys hair quietly. "Once or twice."  
  


Harry practically purred when his hair was touched, completely relaxing and smiling up at Nick. "I can't divorce you if you keep petting me like that."  
  


With a scoff, Nick glanced down at Harry. "You couldn't divorce me either way. There's no way I'm letting you take half of my shit."  
  


"Hey," Harry whined with a cute pout. "I'll just have to cheat on you, then. There's somebody else on the horizon. I'm sorry I had to tell you this way..."  
  


"Somebody else? Who is it?" Nick asked  
with sudden interest.

With a solemn shake of his head, Harry sighed softly. "Nick, it's not you. It's me."  
  


"Just tell me the truth Harry. Be real with me. I deserve that at least, don't I?" Nick whispered, dramatically rubbing his face on Harry's shoulder.  
  


With a soft giggle, Harry nodded slowly. "It's Zayn. The guy I was talking to last night? I just met him, but, like. I don't know. I just, I'm probably gonna pursue him. I know it's stupid and I know I shouldn't but I know I'll end up doing it, so."  
  


Nick shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Should've known."  
  


"What? Is it obvious?" Harry asked, pouting a little. He wasn't that obvious. He wasn't.  
  


"Not that obvious. I just know you well." Nick shrugged. "Be careful though," Nick spoke softly after a moment.  
  


With a frown, Harry asked, "Why?"  
  


"He was dealing at the club last night. After he left you."  
  


Harry gulped a little at that. "Oh. Probably like, hard shit right?"  
  


"I didn't see what it was, but I'm assuming so, yeah."  
  


Not bothering to respond, Harry let them sit in silence for a few moments while he thought it over. He wasn't interested in drug dealing. He had smoked before, yeah, but nothing really besides that. Truthfully he was scared, because he knew himself. He knew how he got, and he knew how quickly he could go down the wrong path. Something told him, though, that he had already started to go down that path. He truly entered the path the moment he saw Zayn in the café that day.

"Well. At least I'll get free weed if I do end up getting involved with him." Harry shrugged a little as he finally gulped down the pain medication Nick had given him.  
  


~  
With half a page of new writing and the day coming to a close, Harry sighed softly.

He didn't understand where this intense writers block came from. He went through his usual routine, taking a bubble bath while he sipped his wine, and still nothing. It was frustrating, when the only thing he could think about was Zayn. It was pathetic, he had drooled over the guy and then had a short conversation with him. It wasn't enough to cause Harry to feel something. It wasn't at all reasonable, and it was definitely embarrassing. Maybe it really had been too long since Harry had gotten laid. See, that was how Harry justified things. He brushed it off as lust because feelings were easier when they weren't, when they were just sexual urges.

The worst part was, Harry couldn't use this in his book. Normally he would use his struggles to fuel his writing, but this wasn't applicable. He wasn't going to mention that his lack of sex life was making him obsess over a mysterious man. So, he dealt with his feelings the logical way. He got dressed, and informed Nick that he was going to the bar.  
  


"You're what? You're crazy, that's what you are. You were throwing up this morning because you drank so much at that exact bar. You're telling me you're going to go back. How do you know Zayn is even gonna be there?" Nick rambled, which, Harry was used to his rambling.  
  


"Love is pain, or so they say," Harry shot back with a slight grin, hoping that the quip would lighten his friends concerned mood.  
  


Nick bit his lip, clearly to keep himself from chuckling before he allowed a quiet laugh. "Or so they say," he agreed. "The editor called."  
  


Harry stopped in his tracks. "Did he? Did he want to bash my writing some more too?"  
  


"Um. No. He just said he would want to give your book another look, he suggested over dinner one night. He invited you to this fancy writing convention."  
  


Careful to keep the emotion off his face, Harry nodded slowly. "What did you say to him?"  
  


"I said I'd have to speak to you. You know I would never speak for you without discussing it first. Besides, I wanted to make the guy sweat. Seemed like a real dick," Nick huffed out, clearly irritated for Harry which, Harry was flattered, honestly.  
  


"He was a dick," Harry agreed quietly. "I knew he was the moment he read my book. But like, I need him. He's gonna help me finally get my big break. And once I start making some money, I can get us a proper place, I can finally give my mum money like I've always wanted to-“  
  


"You don't need him for shit. Do you hear me? If he was too stupid to see how amazing you are then he's an idiot. A proper idiot. You'll find an editor who knows a publisher who works at a firm ten times more popular. Trust me on this. Good things are coming for you. I just know," Nick interrupts him with a lopsided grin.  
  


"Are you drunk?" Harry asked slowly, blinking up at Nick.  
  


"I pre gamed. But I'm sobering up. I have a date tonight."  
  


"Who's the lucky guy?"  
  


"Remember that guy who I took out a few times but then I found out he was married?"  
  


"Ah. Peter. Good old Peter. Yes." Harry nodded.  
  


"Well, his best friend." Nick grinned, giving Harry a high five. "So.. I'm not gonna be home tonight. So if you do find good things at the bar... The house is all yours."  
  


Harry's grin spread across his entire face. "Sick! I'm telling you, I owe you."  
  


"Yeah yeah. Go have your fun." Nick grinned, waving him off and laughing when Harry gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"You can tell the editor I said to go shove his fancy dinner invitation up his ass," Harry whispered in Nicks ear before getting in his car. Nick was right. He didn't need the editor to make things better. There were better opportunities on the horizon, Harry was sure of it.

~  
Since Harry spent the majority of his uni experience pinned against walls by older men, he should be used to it by now. However, on his way to the club, when he felt strong arms pushing him into bricks, well, the wind was knocked out of him. Harrys body registered that the push was violent, not sexual before Harrys mind did.  
  


Harsh French was already being spat into his ear, and the wrong type of wandering hands made themselves at home on Harrys body. While he didn't recognize most of the words being spoken, he did recognize "tais-toi" and "donnes-moi ton portefeuille".  
  


The worst part was probably that he couldn't see the guy because of the position he was in, face pressed into the wall. He probably wouldn't have been able to get a good look at the guy anyways, since everything was happening so fast. Harry didn’t bother to struggle, he was well too aware of his lack of coordination. Instead he lied: “Je n’as pas un portefeuille.”

  
His lie seemed to make the guy even more mad. It was Harry's fault, really. The lie escaped his lips just as the guy touched Harry's jean pocket, the pocket that contained Harrys wallet.

  
Harry expected a blow, but he didn’t feel any pain when his body staggered forward. In one motion, the guy was pushed off him somehow. Since Harry was so shocked, though, he waited until he heard noises of struggle behind him to spin around. It was Zayn. If Harry hadn’t been plagued by fear, he would have found this situation ironic.

  
Zayn had the attempted robber in a headlock and was spitting aggressive French at the man. "Si tu reviens ici essayer de me causer des problèmes, je vais te trouver.”

  
An involuntary shiver ran through Harrys body as he watched the guy stumble over himself  to apologize. “Désolé monsieur, mes plus hautes excuses, ce ne se produira pas encore.”

  
Zayn still had the guy in a headlock, and he looked terrifying. A short, bitter laugh left him as he listened to the robbers plea, clearly unamused. “Comme putain ce ne se produira encore.  V’as t’en, je m’en fou.” As soon as Zayn finished speaking, he released the headlock and then pushed the guy away from him. With one final terrified glance at Zayn, he sprinted off.

  
Harry probably looked just as scared from where he was leaning against the wall. Harry was panting heavily, hand held to his heart as he tried to regain his composure. “How do you know that guy?” Harry finally asked, his soft tone indicating just how intimidated he was by this mysterious man.

  
Zayn chuckled a little harshly at that. He leaned against the wall opposite to Harry and reached into his pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. "I don't know him personally. I know of him. We have a mutual friend."

  
"Some friend," Harry forced himself to mumble as he pointedly ignored the way he could still hear his heart pounding in his chest.

  
"Some friend indeed," Zayn agreed, nodding as he lit up. He waited a moment before he took a long drag, visibly relaxing once he did.  “Wanna try?” Zayn asked when he noticed Harry staring at the cigarette.

  
"What? Oh no, I don't. Um. I smoke weed? Sometimes, not like on the regular, but cigarettes, no. Never," Harry rambled quickly.

  
Zayn raised an eyebrow at that as he continued to exhale smoke coolly. He was mostly expressionless, which made it hard for Harry to gage if he was angry or not.

  
"Not that, um, there’s anything against cigarettes. You know, it's just not my thing. I don't care. Like the smell doesn't bother me or anything."

  
Zayn smirked a little at that. "I'm glad the smell doesn't bother you."

  
Harry frowned a little bit, not understanding where Zayn was going with this. ”Why is that?”

  
"Well, that would be quite unfortunate because my house smells a bit like cigarettes." Zayn shrugged. "And I was hoping to take you home."

  
"Well, you're blunt," Harry managed to breathe out. He looked down at the ground to avoid showing his blushing cheeks.

  
Zayn simply shrugged. "I told you I'm forward when I want something."

  
“Clearly,” Harry scoffed. “Is that what you say to everybody you want to take home?”

  
“No. Usually I don’t have to pursue people I want this much-“

  
“Let me guess, people are throwing off their clothes the minute you look at them?” Harry asked, holding back an eye roll.

  
“Something like that. I just think it's a sign, you know?" Zayn started with a smile.  
  


Now Harry really didn’t know where Zayn was going. “A sign?”

  
"You were in a dangerous situation where something bad could have happened. It's a sign to seize the day and live in the moment." Zayn nodded seriously, pulling the cigarette away so he could focus on the puffs of smoke leaving his lips.

  
Harry blinked. "So by living in the moment you mean I should come home with you?"

  
With a smile, Zayn replied, "Well I do have a nice house."

  
"I'm sure you do.”

  
"You don't want to see it for yourself?" Zayn asked, clearly surprised.

  
Harry shrugged nonchalantly before asking, "What's in it for me?"

  
"Well, sweetheart, I can't tell say what's in it for you. But if I have my way, I can tell you what's gonna be in you.”  
  


It didn’t take Harry long to make a decision. He could have continued to play hard to get, but Zayn saw the way his cock was fattening up in his pants. With flushed cheeks and a slightly softer tone than usual Harry replied, “Lead the way, then.”

  
~  
Harry had always hated airport security. He thought it was unnecessary, a nuisance, and embarrassing to go through the numerous different sensors. Harry tried to avoid places littered with heavy security because of that reason. That’s why Zayns over the top security systems made Harry roll his eyes. Before they even got into Zayns driveway they had to pass through three separate gates. It kind of made sense, since every house in the neighborhood was more like a damn castle. Regardless, Harry thought it was ridiculous.

  
Harry watched Zayn type in yet another passcode to open another gate. However, this time they were actually pulling into the driveway of what Harry assumed to be Zayns house. It was huge, in every way. The lawn was perfectly landscaped and manicured, green grass and bright, healthy flowers growing all over. Harry shouldn't have been surprised when he saw the extravagant fountain in the middle of the front yard, but he was. All Harry could do was stare, and compare Zayns house to his apartment. They were polar opposites, coming from two completely different sides of the spectrum. Zayn was rich and had the finest things Paris could offer while Harry was struggling just to pay his rent.

  
Breaking Harry from his trance was Zayn, hurrying him along. ”C’mon, then."

  
“Eager?” Harry asked as he followed Zayn to the front door.

  
Simply smirking, Zayn opened the door and stepped aside to allow Harry in. He didn’t even attempt to be polite about it, though. "Well do you want a tour or do you want something a little more exciting?" was Zayns first question the moment Harry stepped through the doors of the mansion.

  
"What could be more exciting than a tour?" Harry breathed out, eyes flickering from the gorgeous man in front of him to the gorgeous house around him.

  
"I can think of a few things." Zayn smirked, pressing Harry up against the wall easily. Zayns body was against Harrys in seconds, and before Harry could even process what was happening, lips were grazing over Harrys lips and neck.

  
"Zayn." Harry gulped, eyes studying the man looming over him. See, a tour wouldn't have been bad. He wanted to learn about Zayn. He was intrigued by him, especially by his huge, over the top, safety precaution filled house. He wanted to know what made Zayn operate, but he also wanted Zayn, badly. He was already getting a taste of what it would be like, the intensity, the subtle touches on his body while he thought it through. The decision was made the moment Harry stepped through the door.  

”The tour can wait," Harry finally replied, and god, he felt like a virgin again, with how embarrassed but also obviously needy he was.

  
When Harry finally glanced up at Zayn, their eyes locked. Silence fell over them for a moment, both of them too busy staring at the other with lust ridden expressions. It took a moment, but it was ultimately Zayn who initiated. Zayn stole one more glance at Harrys lips before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Harrys.

  
The kiss was everything Harry imagined it would be and more. Zayns lips were soft but he kissed with experience. It was clearly effortless for him. Zayn controlled the kiss, mostly because he was taking Harry apart with his mouth and Harry was just trying to breathe.

  
Harry on the other hand, kissed with passion. He threw himself into the kiss, letting out noises and breaths to show Zayn that he was enjoying it. Harry wasn't as experienced as Zayn, clearly, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. Harry held his own, returning each kiss until Zayn really started to suck and bite at Harrys lips. It was then that Harry went soft and pliant, allowing Zayn to easily slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth as he pinned him against the wall.

  
When Zayn pulled back, he looked smug, while Harry looked like a mess. Thats exactly what he was, a panting, disheveled mess.

  
“You okay?” Zayn smirked, not sounding remotely concerned. He reached up to gently touch Harrys red, swollen lips with his thumb, smirk widening when he heard Harrys sharp intake of breath.

  
“Just wondering why we’re not naked right now,” Harry replied bluntly with a shrug.

  
Zayns smirk widened considerably. “Eager?” he asked, before motioning for Harry to follow him upstairs. Harry had trouble hiding the way he was gawking at the house as he followed along. He amended, though, that checking out his house was less embarrassing than checking out Zayn himself.

  
However, before Harry could gape too much, Zayn was pulling him into a room and whispering into his ear, “Deshabilles et monte le lit, chéri."

  
Almost tripping over himself in the act, Harry managed to pull his shirt and pants off. In nothing but his tiny briefs, Harry took a seat on the edge of the bed. He watched Zayn, fully clothed, rummage through his drawers. Once he grabbed some sort of tiny bag, Zayn turned around and made his way to the bed. The moment Zayn was on the bed Harry was crawling towards him. It took Harry a few moments to get situated, but once he was settled in Zayn's lap a smile spread across his face. It was obscene, with Harry only in his briefs that were embarrassingly tented already, and Zayn was still completely dressed.

  
“You look pretty like this, on top of me, just in your briefs. You couldn’t wait to get out of your clothes for me, could you?” Zayn smirked, pulling Harry closer by the hips.

  
“Tu ne sais pas ce que tu me fais,” Harry whispered in slow, deep french.

  
“I think I have an idea. I’m going to give you the time of your life, sweetheart. Open your mouth.”

  
Confusion was clear on Harrys face but he obliged anyways, opening his mouth and looking up at Zayn expectantly.

  
An almost fond smile appeared on Zayns face when Harry complied so obediently. That would definitely be something Zayn would file away for future reference. Using one hand to stroke Harry's cheek, Zayn pulled the bag out of his pocket. As soon as he opened it he showed Harry the contents, two average sized blue pills with small designs on them. Zayn shot Harry a smile before placing one pill on his tongue with a soft command to “avales”.

  
Harry did, without even having to be told twice. He gulped down the pill as Zayn did, giggling softly once he felt it go down. “What was that?” Harry asked quietly, blinking up at Zayn.

  
"Ecstasy." Zayn grinned, licking his lips slowly. "Makes it even better."

  
Harry giggled a little, shimmying even closer to Zayn. "I've never.." he trailed off, not bothering to finish his sentence.

  
"It's okay. I've got you," Zayn assured him. Harry didn't know why, but something made Harry believe him.

  
"Yeah. That's--okay," Harry mumbled out before leaning in and pressing their lips together again.

  
The kiss this time was faster, more desperate, and maybe that was because Harry was giddy to feel the effects of the drug.

  
Harrys hands rested on Zayn’s shoulders as he made out with him, but almost immediately ran his hands down Zayn's chest and torso. "You're so fit," Harry huffed, in between the quiet sighs of pleasure that left his lips.

  
Zayn simply hummed in response, taking Harry's hand that was resting on Zayns abdomen and placing it on his crotch.

  
Letting out a whine, Harry bit down on Zayns lip and started palming Zayn through his pants.

  
"C’est bon, amour, comme ça."  Zayn's voice was deeper than it normally was, but otherwise sounded pretty much the same.

  
The praise made Harry keen and palm Zayn even faster. "Can I blow you?" Harry blurted out after a moment.

  
"You're asking?" Zayn chuckled breathlessly against Harrys lips, clearly in disbelief.

  
Harry pulled back from Zayns lips to look at him before nodding slowly. "Yeah. So like, can I?"

  
"Yeah. God, yeah," Zayn breathed, kissing Harrys lips once more before helping steady the curly haired man. The drugs haven’t quite kicked in, he knew it would take half an hour at least, but he wanted to make sure Harry didn't fall regardless.

  
Harry laid down on his stomach with his head in between Zayns legs before he started to pull at the other man's belt. A smile was spread across Harrys lips, and it only widened when Harry got Zayns pants around his boxers.

  
Zayn watched Harry intently, reaching down to pet at his long, curly hair. A smirk rose to Zayns face when he heard Harry purring at the sensation.

  
Harry already looked blissed out, but the look intensified when he got Zayns cock out.  “So big,” Harry mumbled, before looking up at Zayn with eager eyes.

  
Zayn had already taken his cock in his own hand and was pumping himself slowly to get hard. “I know. Go ahead babe,” Zayn encouraged him softly.

  
With a smile, Harry easily wrapped his lips around Zayns cock. He swirled his tongue around the head as he got used to the feeling, humming as he did.

  
“Jesus, feels good,” Zayn cursed at the warm, wet feeling of Harrys mouth, immediately tangling his fingers in Harrys hair. He blinked quickly, torn between closing his eyes so he could completely enjoy the feeling and leaving them open so he could watch Harry.

  
Harry moaned quietly at the touch on his hair, glancing up at Zayn with hollowed cheeks and wide eyes. He waited for a moment before starting to bob his head up and down slowly.

  
“T’es trop bon avec ta bouche,” Zayn muttered as he bucked his hips up to Harrys mouth, making him gag a little. When he pulled his dick out with a concerned frown, though, Harry shook his head.

  
“I like when my throat’s fucked,” Harry admitted, voice cracking and breathy with the confession. He didn’t wait for Zayn to reply, simply wrapped his lips back around Zayns cock and resumed his motions.

  
Zayn tugged even harder at Harrys hair, waiting a moment before he started to really fuck Harry's throat. He used his hips to keep a steady rhythm and his hands to keep Harrys head in place. Zayn fucked deep into Harry's throat, until Harry was gagging before pulling out slowly. Zayn gave Harry a moment before putting the tip of his cock on Harry's tongue again.

  
Harry fucking loved it, his eyes were watering and he was coughing each time he swallowed Zayn down but he was smiling through it. He was careful to breathe through his nose so he could take everything Zayn was giving him. “Feels good,” Harry croaked out, relaxing his jaw since Zayns cock was just sitting on his tongue, dripping pre come. Harry lapped up his pre come eagerly, making loud slurping noises purposely.

  
“Obscène,” Zayn hissed, pulling Harry off his leaking cock since he didn't want to come yet. He gently pulled Harry up by the chin and connected their lips, groaning at the way they were panting into each others mouths.

  
"Was it good for you?" Harry whispered in between shaky breaths. He sounded so sincere and genuinely worried that he didn't please Zayn. Jesus.

  
"So much better than just good," Zayn answered before returning his lips to Harrys briefly, "love that I can taste me on you."

  
Harry whimpered quietly at that. "Love how you taste," he admitted after he pulled back for air, licking his lips.

  
Zayn hummed at that, too busy grabbing the lube to respond, "On your hands and knees."

  
With a groan, Harry scrambled to get into the proper position. After hastily pulling off his briefs, he got on all fours and then spread his legs slowly.

  
"You're so good. Good boy," Zayn praised as he uncapped the container of lube and coated his fingers with it.

  
Harry shivered in anticipation, groaning when he clenched around nothing. "Hurry, please."

  
"Patience," Zayn scolded, but slipped one finger into Harry slowly, to start off.

  
Harry’s breathing hitched a little at that, his eyes fluttering shut. He slowly rocked his hips to try and adjust to the feeling.

  
Zayn pressed a kiss to Harry’s shoulder, moving his finger in and out of the man slowly to tease him.

  
"Add another," was Harry’s first audible statement to Zayn. He was grinding his hips back on Zayns finger, whining quietly when it wasn't enough.

  
"Je veux t’entendre supplier." Zayn smirked, curling his finger in Harry, purposely aiming just shy of his prostate.

  
Shuddering at that, Harry started to ramble a bit: "Please, Zayn. Please add another. Need it. Need to be filled."

  
"Well you're just a slut for it, aren't you?" Zayn teased as he added a second finger. He immediately started to pump and curl his fingers, moving a little faster each time Harry moaned.

  
Harry was grinding back onto Zayns fingers faster now. His motions might have looked exaggerated, but he was completely genuine. It felt incredible, the pleasure was indescribable and like nothing he'd ever felt before. His moans and whimpers told Zayn just that. "Love your fingers, don't know how I got by without them."

  
Zayn was smug, working his fingers and letting out his own noises every so often. It felt good for him too, which was what he kept reassuring Harry. Even though he was the one giving the pleasure he still felt amazing, and he was certain that was thanks to the drug.

  
Harry managed until Zayn got four fingers into him. "I can't- it's too good, Zayn, I'm gonna fucking come," Harry babbled out, thighs starting to shake. He was having trouble breathing with how hard he was panting, and he was struggling to hold himself up on his hands and knees with all the pleasure Zayn was giving him.

  
"Go on, pet. I'll make you come a second time," Zayn promised, using his free hand to squeeze his own cock. If he really tried he knew he could come too, but he could wait. He put a hand on Harry's hip to sturdy him, before curling his fingers against Harry's prostate relentlessly.

  
Harrys entire body shook as he came with a loud cry of Zayns name. He came all over his stomach, panting and whimpering obscenities as he rode out his high.

  
Zayn used his fingers to fuck him through it, hitting Harry's prostate every time. "How's that?" he asked, only pulling his fingers out when Harry stopped shaking.

  
"I want you to fuck me," was the first thing that came out of Harrys mouth. He even looked over his shoulder to shoot Zayn a desperate look. His eyes were wide and glazed over, lips red and swollen from being bitten so much, cheeks bright red with exertion, and his sweaty curls were sticking to his forehead. He was wrecked.

  
"You're amazing," Zayn breathed out, because he had never seen somebody so fucked out, still begging for more. Zayn rolled on a condom before starting to tease Harry by grinding the head of his cock against Harry's hole slowly.

  
"Please just fuck me. I want you in me," Harry whimpered, spreading his legs even further to give Zayn access.

  
Zayn didn't wait anymore, simply groaning loudly when he pushed into Harry. He grabbed Harry's hips as soon as he was balls deep, stilling to let Harry adjust.

  
"You're so fucking big, shit. You fill me up so damn good, fuck," Harry rambled under his breath as he wiggled his hips to try and adjust.

  
Zayn waited a moment before starting to fuck into Harry slow but deep and hard. "Well, you're so tight. Fuck."

  
Starting to tremble, Harry looked over his shoulder so he could watch Zayn fuck him. His mouth had fallen open, letting out pornographic moans as he looked at Zayn.

  
Zayn looked like a professional pornstar, with his face scrunched up in pleasure and lips slightly parted. Low groans left his lips as he held Harry's hips and fucked into him hard.

  
When Harry turned his head back around, without even knowing what he was doing, he clasped his wrists behind his back.

  
Zayn raised an eyebrow at Harry's wrists, but didn't comment. He made a mental note to discuss it later before grabbing hold of both of Harry's wrists with one of his hands. Pinning Harry in place, he started to aim for Harry's prostate.

  
"Zayn! Right there. Please," Harry cried out, continuing to ramble obscenities and wordless noises of pleasure. His body shook with the intensity of Zayns thrusts.

  
Smirking at Harrys mewls, Zayn aimed for Harry's prostate with each thrust. Once he had a steady rhythm, he tightened his grip on Harry's wrists to make it more intense for him.

With all the pleasure Zayn was giving Harry combined with the pleasure of the drug, Harry started to shake. "I can't hold myself up," he whimpered, quietly like he was embarrassed.

  
In one swift motion, he pulled out of Harry, flipped him onto his back, threw his legs over his shoulder and slammed back into him.

  
Harry was arching his back, close to tears with how fucking incredible it felt. His cock was so unbelievably sensitive, but he was still hard and leaking and on the verge of coming again. "Please," Harry whimpered, knowing Zayn would understand.

  
"You're gonna wait," Zayn told him, speeding up his thrusts and throwing his head back, moaning at how good it felt.

  
"I can't wait. Please," Harry squeaked, his usually deep voice coming out in breathy rasps. "Please Zayn."

  
Zayn made Harry wait a few moments, just focusing on his own pleasure and watching the other man shiver and arch his back. "How good am I making you feel?"

  
Harry couldn't respond at first, shaky noises falling out of his mouth. When he found words, he blurted them out immediately: "So good, feels so fucking amazing Zayn, please. Please let me come."

  
Zayn pretended to think about it for a moment. He could've made Harry wait even more, but he was blissed out and waiting to come too. "Alright. I want you to come untouched. I'm going to come on your face after you. So go ahead," Zayn grunted out, thrusting into Harry even harder now, with a newfound determination.

  
When Harry came for the second time, he blacked out with how intense it was. He chanted Zayns name as he rode out his orgasm, shivering even when Zayn pulled out.

  
Zayn pulled off the condom as soon as he pulled out, before starting to pump his cock, aiming at Harrys face.

  
Harry blinked away the tears that had formed from the high amounts of pleasure and opened his mouth eagerly, hoping to catch some of the come on his tongue.

  
With a grunt, Zayn came all over Harrys face, come landing on his forehead, cheeks, chin, and on Harry's tongue.

  
Harry eagerly lapped up the come that landed on his tongue, opening his eyes once he swallowed it. "Feed me?" Harry asked, hopefully.

  
"You're just greedy for it aren't you?" Zayn mumbled out, still breathless. He started to scoop the come off Harrys face with his fingers, pressing them into his eager mouth.

  
Harry sucked on Zayns fingers like he sucked on his cock, bobbing his head up and down slowly, staring up at Zayn with a glazed over expression, cheeks hollowed. Once he was finished, he pulled off with a pop and smiled up at Zayn.

  
"Obscene," Zayn repeated, still trying to catch his breath. He collapsed on the bed, just basking in his blissed out state.

  
Harry did the same, smiling lazily up at Zayn. "That was incredible."

  
Zayn nodded, petting Harrys curls wordlessly. He didn't have the energy to get up or kick Harry out, so he let him stay.

  
Eventually, Harry drifted off to sleep, and Zayn did the same. He held Harry while he slept, knowing that tomorrow morning he would be out before Harry even thought about waking up. It was alright, Zayn convinced himself, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

  
~  
Harry woke up to an almost hangover. He didn't drink, but he still had a pounding head, an aching stomach, and just felt terrible in general. He supposed he couldn't blame his aching ass on the drug, but he pointedly ignored that since when he woke up it was alone. Harry pulled himself out of the mans bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he went to grab his phone, he saw a note on top of it in neat french.

  
"J'ai dû partir; désolé. Pourtant, je veux te revoir. Au-dessous est mon numéro de téléphone,tu peux m’appeler ou m’envoyer un texto si t’es intéressé en plus d’amusement. J’espère a te parler bientôt, Zayn. x"

  
Harry read the note over a few times before walking to the bathroom. He decided to wait a little to text Zayn back, not wanting to seem desperate. Besides, Zayn had left him in the morning, and Harry was still somewhat irritated about that. He didn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

  
After washing up in the bathroom and using Zayns high tech shower, he got dressed. Instead of putting his dirty clothes back on, he grabbed a pair of Zayns jeans and one of Zayns sweaters. Shaking his hair out, Harry grabbed his phone and walked downstairs slowly.

  
"Hello Harry, Mr. Malik told me you would need a ride home," a man in an expensive suit told Harry as soon as he opened Zayn's front door.

  
"Mr. Malik?" Harry asked, blinking slowly since he was so out of it. "Oh. That must be Zayns last name.. Zayn Malik. Okay. Yeah. Thank you." Harry nodded after thinking about it for a moment.

  
The man gave Harry a strange look, but didn't comment any further. After holding the car door open for Harry, the man got into the drivers seat and drove off.

  
"You know, sir, you're the first person Mr. Malik has brought home."

  
Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm sorry?" he asked slowly.

  
"I just couldn't help but notice. Sorry," the man replied, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

"What did you say your name was?" Harry asked after a moment, well, after he programmed "Zayn Malik" into his phone.

  
"Uh. Liam, sir," the man answered hesitantly.

  
"Liam. So are you Zayns butler or?" Harry asked, trying to figure Zayn out.

  
He shook his head. "I'm Zayn's best friend, actually."

  
Harry didn't bother responding, since he has so many different questions that he was sure Liam couldn't answer. "Why did you have your best friend dress up like a butler and drive me home," Harry texted Zayn, not bothering with any sort of greeting.

  
"Good morning, love. I thought it would be rude of me to leave you without a way to get home. Certainly you wouldn't be okay with walking? I'm sure your ass would hate you more than it already does."

  
Harry flushed and shook his head, even though Zayn wasn't there to see it. "You could have driven me home. I would've preferred that. Liam seems lovely, but."

  
"I know. I'm sorry, I had something important to attend."

  
Harry pouted a little, not bothering to respond.

  
"Let me make it up to you," Zayn sent Harry as he was getting out of the car.

  
"Thank you Liam. Have a nice day." Harry smiled as he shook his hand.

  
With a smile, Liam nodded. "It was nice meeting you. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon," he told Harry before getting back in the car and driving off.

  
Harry decided to ignore Liam's comment, glancing at his phone instead. With a smile, he replied "I'm listening..." to Zayns message.

  
"Tonight I'll pick you up."

  
"Where are we going?” Harry typed out as he banged on his apartment door. Wincing at the sound, Harry decided to just ring the doorbell instead. He rang it, then waited for some sort of response, from Nick or from Zayn.

  
Zayn responded first. ”This new club that just opened. Wear something pretty."

  
Harry flushed at that. "Why should I wear something if you're just gonna take me out of it later?"

  
“I’ll make it worth your while..”

  
Harry read the message, but didn’t answer because as soon as the door flew open Nick was bombarding him with questions. “How was your night? Did he make you breakfast? Who was the guy who dropped you off? When are you seeing him next? Are those his clothes? You absolute slag!” Nick exclaimed, making Harry roll his eyes.

  
“Leave me alone, Nicholas.” Harry chuckled, turning his attention back to his phone after he kicked his shoes off.

  
“Pay attention to me!” Nick complained, grabbing Harrys phone out of his hands.

  
Harry tried to protest, but it was too late. Nick was already laughing and nodding his head. “Okay, I approve.”

  
With a confused frown, Harry grabbed his phone back and glanced at the new message from Zayn. Since Harry hadn’t initially responded, Zayn sent another one. The message contained a picture of a pile of obviously expensive lace panties captioned “will this make it worth your while?”

  
Harrys eyes widened and he flushed a bright red, making Nick laugh even harder. “Goodnight,” Harry mumbled, pushing past Nick and walking to his room.

  
“Don’t sext your boyfriend too loud.” Nick cackled, making Harry flip him off and slam the bedroom door shut.  
~  
Harry spent the majority of his day napping and writing, so when Zayn texted him and told him that he was on the way, well, he was ecstatic. He was so intrigued by Zayn. His mysterious allure, his outrageously expensive taste, and his knowledge and access to drugs. Harry hoped that tonight, along with amazing sex he could learn more about the man he couldn't stop thinking about.

  
"Is this pretty enough?" Harry asked Nick when he walked out of his bedroom, fully dressed. He had chosen one of his sheer black blouses that showed off his butterfly and bird tattoos. With the blouse, he wore tight black dress pants. After fixing his curls, he shot Nick a smile.

  
"Absolutely gorgeous. But you already know that." Nick smirked, walking over to Harry and reaching up to ruffle his hair.

  
With a giggle, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he was quickly interrupted by a honk outside. “That's Zayn. I dunno when I’ll be home," he told Nick with a sheepish smile.

  
“Use protection!” Nick called, making Harry shake his head fondly and walk out of the apartment. Harry blinked when he saw Zayn, in a designer suit, holding the door of a stretch limo open for him.

  
“You listened. You look very pretty,” were Zayns first words to Harry when he walked up, followed with a deep kiss.

  
Harry couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around Zayns neck as he kissed him back. Harry allowed himself to get lost in the kiss, not even remembering they were holding the limo driver up. Flush rose to Harry's cheeks when Zayn picked him up and carried him into the limo like he weighed nothing. As soon as he shut the door behind them, he sat down, placed Harry in his lap and resumed kissing.

  
“I feel under dressed,” Harry admitted when he got his hands on Zayns tie after they had pulled back for air.

  
Zayn shook his head almost sternly, tracing a finger over Harrys plump lips. “Nobody cares about what you wear. My outfit is a formality. But, if it makes you feel any better, people aren’t going to be looking at your outfit, sweetheart.”

  
Harry ducked his head at that, not continuing the conversation by cheekily asking, “What will they be staring at, then?” like he considered. Instead, he looked around and then asked, “Why the limo?”

  
With a shrug, Zayn smiled up at Harry. “I thought it would impress you. I think I was right about that. Yes?”

  
“Well, as you can see by my shitty apartment I’m not used to things like this. So I’m easily impressed by the finer things. But it’s lovely either way.”

  
Zayns smile widened at that. “I’m certainly glad about that. I have expensive taste and a desire to spoil you. I also have the funds to do just so.”

  
Harry didn’t answer that, just staring up at Zayn with pink cheeks for a bit before pressing his lips to Zayns neck. “Wish I could blow you right now.”

  
“Yeah you liked that. Don’t worry. Plenty of time for that later,” Zayn promised with a smirk, hands trailing down Harry's back to squeeze his ass.

  
Harry let out a moan, making the limo driver cough uncomfortably. “We’re here, sir,” the guy mumbled, avoiding eye contact with either one of them as they stepped out. Harry thanked the guy softly, not bothering to apologize since Zayn was already wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him through the crowd. Surprisingly, they didn’t get stopped at the door. Even though there was a huge line to get into the club, Zayn simply nodded at the bouncer and they were immediately let in. They never saw the public part of the club. As soon as Harry opened the door, Zayn was ushering him up a flight of stairs.

  
“Why are we going up here?” Harry asked, but quickly understood once he saw what was in the upstairs area of the club. The vip section. In the vip section there was a whole different bar,  smaller tables and couches to sit at, and even private rooms you could get to only from the main vip room. Harry was still looking around curiously when Zayn took a seat on one of the plush couches.

  
“Come sit,” Zayn suggested with a smile, patting his lap slowly.

  
“This is such a nice place. I’m guessing you’re a very important person if you’re in vip?” Harry teased softly as he took a seat in Zayn's lap.

  
With a chuckle, Zayn shrugged. “I guess that’s a matter of opinion. I think I’m pretty important.”  

  
Harry nodded slowly, hanging onto Zayns every word as he trailed his hand down his torso. “Did you pick this room so you could fuck me right on this couch? I could ride you, bounce up and down on your cock until you come deep inside me. I’m good at it,” Harry started to whisper in Zayns ear.

  
“I think that’s what the private rooms are for,” a deep voice spoke from behind them, making Harry turn around with a frown.

  
An intimidating looking man loomed over them, glaring at Zayn specifically. “Can I speak with you, Mr. Malik? I don’t have all day," the man mumbled out impatiently.

  
“Who the hell are you? What do you want?” Harry answered, frowning even more. He turned to shoot Zayn a look, but Zayn simply shook his head. “It’s okay. Why don't you go try these on in the bathroom?” Zayn asked Harry smoothly as he handed him a bag.

  
Hesitantly, Harry took the bag and got off Zayn's lap. The walk to the bathroom was short, but a newfound giddiness entered Harrys body when he slipped into one of the stalls and opened the bag. His eyes landed on the same pile of panties that Zayn had sent him a picture of earlier. Biting his lip, he took each pair of lingerie out and tried it on. There was five different panties in the bag, red panties, blue panties, pink panties, a black g-string, and a red gstring. He tried each pair on carefully, blush on his cheeks each time he peeked out of the stall to glance in the mirror. It was risky, walking out in nothing but the lingerie, but he couldn’t resist. He loved how the lace looked on him. He loved seeing his cock tent the front, loved the way the panties hugged his bubble butt and thighs, loved how pretty the material made him feel, he loved it all. After Harry finished trying on all the panties, he placed them neatly in the bag, pulled his clothes back on, and walked out. He scanned the room for Zayn, frowning when he saw him in the same spot, still talking to the man. His frown deepened when he watched the guy slip Zayn money before walking away, hands in his pockets.

  
Harry walked back over to Zayn, placing the bag on the floor and sitting back on Zayn's lap. “What was that?” Harry asked, rather bluntly.

  
"It's nothing. Did you like my present?" Zayn asked, starting to press kisses to Harry's neck, obviously in an effort to distract him.

  
Harry squirmed away with a frown. "Is that how you have your big house and fancy suits? Dealing drugs?"

  
Zayn frowned a little, running a finger through his hair. "Is that what you're upset about? I get my money doing that.. Among other things. Does it matter? Money is money. I'm able to buy people I’m interested in nice things, and I can show you the best drugs in Paris. I don't understand why you're upset."

  
Harry shrugged, and after a moment sighed softly. "I'm not sure why I'm upset either, to be honest."

  
"Harry, I was in your position once, struggling to get by. I'm an opportunist. I saw potential in myself, and I see potential in you. I think you would earn a lot of money."

  
“Earn a lot of money doing what? Dealing drugs?” Harry asked slowly, trying to understand. He didn’t want to rule anything out, since he did need the money, desperately, but drug dealing was definitely not what he had in mind when he typically envisioned a job.

  
Zayn stared at Harry for a moment before shaking his head. “Drug dealing isn’t the only way I get my money, Harry. I have another way, it’s easy, and it’s something I know you’re already good at. You were great yesterday, it’d be just like that.”

  
Frowning even more, Harry stayed quiet, trying to understand what Zayn was talking about. “You were great yesterday,” echoed through his mind until he understood. “You want me to be a prostitute?” Harry whispered, voice shaking a little in disbelief. He had never considered himself conventional, but selling himself had never been something he had ever thought of an option.

  
“I don’t want you to do anything. I’m just saying, it’s a good gig. I’m high end, I only work with who I want to, I don’t have to deal with money since the agency covers that, and I can stop at any time.” Zayn smiled at a still frowning Harry, tracing his pout with his thumb.

  
Harry let out a deep breath before shaking his head. "I think I'm gonna go home. Think all this over if that's okay."

  
"Oh. Yeah, of course." Zayn nodded. "Do you want me to give you a ride home?"

  
"I'll call a cab," Harry murmured, slowly getting off Zayn's lap and taking the bag that Zayn handed to him.

  
"Have a safe drive home. I'll see you soon." Zayn smiled slightly at Harry.

  
Harry simply nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek before walking out of the vip section before slipping out of the club completely. He checked his pockets as he waited for a cab, sighing when he saw he had no money on him. As he walked home, Harry mulled over Zayns suggestion. He did really need the money, and it didn't seem like a terrible idea. It was just, different. Maybe the money would give him the cushion he needed. He could contribute to the rent money, he could actually buy food and clothes, he could send his family money, he could have a big house like Zayn, the possibilities were endless. Harry was still hesitant, though, even knowing the positives that it came with, so he decided he would talk to Nick about it.

  
When Harry arrived at his apartment, he actually got the door open after a few pushes. Luckily for him, too, since Nick seemed to be in another world, hunched over the kitchen table with a stack of papers around him.

  
"Hey babe. What's all this?" Harry asked softly as he walked over to Nick, resting his chin on Nick shoulder.

  
Nick forced a smile, reaching his hand back to pet Harrys hair. "Nothing good. I'm just figuring out how we're gonna pay rent this month."

  
           Harry's stomach sank at that. He knew he didn't contribute to the rent, at all, which he felt guilty about. Nick always said he didn't care about paying it, and he never made Harry feel bad about not paying, but still. Harry hesitated before shaking his head and speaking calmly, ”Well, that won't be a problem. I can get a job. Zayn helped me get it, actually."

  
"Really? That's amazing Harry. Really amazing. I'm proud of you." Nick smiled, turning around to hug Harry tightly.

  
As Harry hugged Nick back tightly, with his face buried in his neck, he realized that Nick was too preoccupied to remember to ask what kind of job it was. Maybe it was for the best.  
~  
"I'm interested in the job you were talking about. Not dealing. The other one," Harry texted Zayn as soon as he slipped away from Nick.

  
"Good choice."

  
"When can I start? And when do I get paid?"

  
"Your, well our agent will discuss money at the meeting tomorrow. I'll pick you up, we'll go out to breakfast and then to the meeting. What do you want for breakfast?"

  
"Weed."

  
"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

  
Harrys heart fluttered, meaning he didn't respond to Zayns message. He did think about it for the rest of the night, though. This complicated, drug dealing prostitute who Harry had so quickly developed interest in felt the same. Even though he was selling himself for rent money since he was a failing writer, Zayn was still interested. Zayn was still interested, even though the guy met him at his worst. Maybe they still had a chance to be together. Hopeful thoughts flooded Harry's mind as he got ready for bed, making him text Zayn once more before falling asleep. "Sweet dreams, mine will be sweet, since they'll be about you.."

  
~  
"You call this a business meeting?" Harry grinned as he climbed into Zayns car first thing the next morning. A bag of weed, a container of brownies, and a handful of bongs were all in a pile on the passengers seat.

  
Zayn grinned at that, throwing the pile in the back seat and leaning over to press a long kiss to Harrys lips. "The business meeting is a conference call so you don't have to worry about them noticing that you're high. They don't care. Plus you asked for weed, and here we aim to please."

  
Harry giggled at that, quickly pulling off his tight pants and sweater so he was in nothing but the red panties Zayn bought him.

  
"Oh those look gorgeous on you. I knew they would." Zayn grinned, putting a hand on Harry's thigh as he started to drive.

  
With a flush, Harry thanked him softly before looking out the window to avoid Zayns intense gaze. "Where are we going?"

  
           As Zayn pulled into an abandoned parking lot, he turned off the car and got into the back seat. "We're gonna hot box the car."

         Climbing into the backseat, Harry admitted, "I've never hot boxed a sports car before. Never hot boxed any car, actually." Harry smiled up at Zayn from his spot in his lap. That's where he was most comfortable, in the back of Zayns sleek jaguar, in nothing but the red panties Zayn had bought for him.

  
Zayn smirked at that, already working on packing the bong for them. "T’as beaucoup a apprendre, minou."

  
Harry giggled, pressing his face to Zayns neck and leaving soft kisses along the mans skin as he lit the blunt for them. "Maybe you could teach me, then."

  
"I fully intend on that, sweetheart,"  Zayn promised as he wrapped his lips around the bong and inhaled deeply.

  
Harry didn't respond, too busy staring at Zayn closely, eyes following his every move.  
Zayn pulled off the bong after a few moments, staring at Harry before blowing out a big puff of smoke into Harry's face.

  
Giggling softly at that, Harry grabbed the bong and wrapped his lips around it just as Zayn had done. After spending a few seconds inhaling, Harry pulled off and starting coughing out the smoke.

  
"You told me you've done this before." Zayn smiled, running his thumb over Harrys pink cheek soothingly.

  
"I have," Harry insisted, in between soft coughs. "I dunno what the problem is." He pouted up at Zayn.

Zayn cooed at Harrys pout and then picked the bong back up. "Let me try something. Part your lips a little for me. When I put my lips against yours suck in the smoke. Okay?"

  
Harry nodded slowly, parting his lips for Zayn eagerly. "Sounds fun."

  
"It is." Zayn smiled before taking a long hit off the bong. After he pulled off the bong he cupped Harrys face in his hands, pressing his lips to Harrys before exhaling deeply.

  
Harry eagerly sucked in all the smoke, watching Zayn pull back from his lips. As soon as Zayn pulled back, Harry exhaled, giggling softly. "Feels good."

  
Zayn shot gunned him a few more times, until Harry was giggling and feeling the effects of the weed.

  
As Harry grabbed a brownie he informed Zayn, "Hot boxing is fun."

  
"You know what else would be even more fun? If I pulled those pretty panties to the side and sat you down on my cock," Zayn whispered in Harrys ear.

  
Gasping softly, he nodded and shifted a little on Zayn's lap. "That would be fun," Harry whispered, reddened eyes blinking quickly to stay focused.

  
"Want me to get you ready, then?" Zayn asked with a smirk, wiggling his fingers and licking his lips.

  
With a soft moan, Harry nodded quickly. "Yeah, please. Please finger me. Love your fingers."

  
Zayn waited until Harry was finished with the brownie before pressing his fingers to Harrys lips with a soft command to “suces".

  
Harry immediately got to work, sucking on Zayns fingers and swirling his tongue around to get them nice and wet. Harry stared up at Zayn as he sucked, watching his pleasure ridden face with eager eyes.

  
Zayn pulled his fingers out after he thought they were wet enough, using his free hand to pull Harrys panties to the side. "Say please."

  
Harry whimpered at that, spreading his legs wide. "Please," Harry breathed out, pressing his lips to Zayns after staring at them for a second.

  
With a smirk, Zayn bit down on Harry's lower lip and slipped one long finger into the man in his lap slowly.

  
Harrys moan was muffled by Zayns lips, but could still be heard in the otherwise silent car.

  
"You're so good. You know that?" Zayn breathed out, pulling back from the kiss so he could press his lips to Harry's neck. As soon as he started to suck on Harrys neck, he pumped his first finger in and out of Harry slowly.

  
Harry immediately tilted his head back to give Zayn easier access to his neck, moaning and spreading his legs wider for him.

  
"Love when you ride my fingers." Zayn smirked against Harry's neck, adding another finger into him.  
  


Harry mewled at that, digging his fingernails into Zayns shoulders and grinding his hips back on his fingers. "Zayn," he panted out, already struggling to breath properly.

  
Zayn pulled back, admiring the love bites on Harry's neck. "T’es jolie après que je t’ai marqué. Je savais que tu serais."

  
"Zayn." Harry keened at his words, reaching one hand down to touch his cock, leaking through the skimpy lace.

  
Zayn shook his head, using his free hand to pull Harrys hand away from his cock. "I want you to come untouched," Zayn ordered as he moved his fingers faster.

  
Harry was about to beg to come, the weed and Zayns words bringing him close when Zayns phone rang. With wide eyes, Harry stared up at Zayn.

  
"Don't say a word." Zayn smirked, adding a fourth finger before answering his phone with his free hand, "Hi Richard."

  
Harry, clearly in disbelief, bit down on his lower lip when Zayn slipped a fourth finger into him. It was so agonizingly good. Zayns fingers were pressing against his prostate every damn time, it made Harry want to cry. Or cry out, but he couldn't, since Zayn was on the phone.

  
"Be good," was what Zayn mouthed to Harry as he listened to Richard talk. "Yeah. The guy I was telling you about wanted to get started as soon as possible. What can you do for him?"

  
Burying his face into Zayns neck, Harry started to let out shaky whines as he focused on the pleasure Zayn was giving him.  

  
"Yeah. He knows all of that already. Listen why don't you set him up with my normal Monday night? I have a 5:00 tonight, you could set it for then," Zayn suggested, watching Harry closely. "Look at me," Zayn whispered in Harrys ear, making the man shiver and pick his head up.

  
Harrys eyes were even more glazed over than they had been, a mix of the drugs and the sex, for sure. Harry's thighs were trembling and his bottom lip was shaking as he struggled to stay quiet.

  
"Gonna make you come so hard after this," Zayn mouthed like a promise into his skin, fucking his fingers into Harry faster. "Did you check your schedule? Is that good?" Zayn asked, a bit hurriedly. Teasing Harry and making him stay quiet was fun, but now he just wanted to see him fall apart and cry out.

  
Harry was mouthing desperately to Zayn, "Please, I need to come so badly, Zayn please, I've been good I deserve it, please." He didn't make a sound though, aside from his heavy breathing.

  
           "Excellent. See you then. Have a nice day," Zayn mumbled before hanging up, free hand running up and down Harry's side soothingly. "You were so good for me, sweetheart. Come for me. Come all over your pretty panties for me," Zayn encouraged, fingers moving even faster and harder against Harry's prostate to help him come.

  
Harry all but screamed out with relief and pleasure as soon as he was finally allowed to come. The wait made it so much more intense, made him shake and sob a bit as he came. He followed Zayns instructions, coming into the panties just like he had said. Harry collapsed against Zayn after, burying his face into the man's neck as he tried to calm down.

  
"You always come so hard," Zayn whispered, pulling his fingers out only after Harry had collapsed against him.

  
Harry didn't really respond to that, just whined softly and pulled at the now dirty, come stained panties.

  
Zayn smiled, helping Harry take the panties off before pressing a kiss to his newly marked neck. "You got them all messy."

  
Harry nodded at that, not bothering to move from Zayn's lap. " 'm tired."

  
Zayn softened a little at the pliant man falling asleep in his lap. "You can come back to my house and sleep."

  
"Sounds good to me. As long as you drive." Harry smiled lazily up at him.

  
With a kiss to Harry's forehead, Zayn nodded. "It's a deal."  
~  
Harry was still in a bit of a fog when he woke up in the same bed he got fucked in when Zayn first brought him home. He was definitely warm enough, covered in five different heavy blankets. When Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up, he saw Zayn, sitting at the edge of the bed, typing on his laptop. When he saw Harry had woken up, though, he shut the laptop and turned his full attention to Harry.

  
"Sleeping beauty finally awakes. It's a miracle." Zayn grinned at Harry.

  
"Aw you think I'm beautiful? So sweet of you," Harry hummed, pushing off a few of the blankets and chuckling when he saw he was completely naked underneath the covers.

  
Zayn nodded seriously at that. "I do think you're beautiful."

  
Harry blushed, shaking his head as he stayed quiet. "Did you get weird looks when you brought a naked, passed out man into your apartment?"

  
Zayn chuckled at that. "It's not the first time. The neighbors are used to it by now."

  
"I'm sure they are," Harry murmured, letting out a groan as he stretched.

  
"Plus if they got suspicious I could always pay them off," Zayn added thoughtfully.

  
"Must be nice, having all that extra money." Harry sighed softly.

  
"I didn't always have this. I worked for it," Zayn told Harry seriously. "It was hard work, but I did it."

  
Harry thought for a moment before asking hesitantly, "So why are you a prostitute and a dealer?"  
  


"For money. I just told you," Zayn replied, a bit more sharply than Harry would have appreciated.

  
Harry frowned. "Okay. But why? There's other.. Legal ways to make money."

          "My dad got me this elite job as a lawyer fresh out of school. I was awful at it, and I hated it. You have to wear a fucking suit every day and everybody was pretentious. So I quit my job, which, my dad nearly had a heart attack. He told me I was ruining my chances at being successful. I did it anyways. I packed my bags and moved to Paris. I was young and I didn't know what I wanted, so after my money ran out I was on the streets. Then one day a guy came up to me and asked me how I felt about becoming rich. I thought he was taking the piss. So I told him to fuck off. He left,but he came back the next day and explained. He said I was gorgeous and I would be able to make a fortune. So I did it. I got into prostitution first, dealing a few months later. I found out that most of my clients would rather fuck when they were high. I never minded because it made me more money, so that's how it started," Zayn explained, taking a deep breath once he finished, gauging Harry's reaction.

  
"We're.. Really not that different after all," Harry managed to speak after a few moments of silence. "That's, a really sad story. I'm sorry." Harry frowned a little. "What are you doing when you're not working? Did you ever get to find out what it was that you really wanted to pursue?"

  
Zayn nodded with a slight smile. "Art. I love it, I get to do it all the time now. That's why I don't mind what I do, you know? The job sucks, but I have the freedom to do what I love and it pays the bills. Does more than just that, actually," Zayn explained, chuckling softly when he was done.

  
Harry smiled a little, watching Zayn lit up at the mention of his true passion. "What kind of art is your favorite?"

  
"I'd have to say painting with watercolors. I love when they run together, you could totally mess it up and it would still look sick." Zayn grinned. "I like graffiti art too. I have a whole room for it. Wanna see?" Zayn asked.

  
Harry couldn't agree fast enough. "I would love to see your artwork. I'm flattered that you want to show me, actually," he admitted softly, getting up and slipping into a sweatshirt Zayn had handed him.

  
Zayn held out his hand, leading a smiling Harry out of the bedroom and down the hallway. After turning a corner, Zayn opened the door, and switched on the light, to reveal a room covered with art on the walls. The walls were vibrant and full of hundreds of different intricate designs. The designs varied from people to words, and included everything in between.

  
“This is amazing.” Harry grinned, eyes scanning each piece of the wall closely.

  
"This was my first one. I made it the day I moved in." Zayn pointed to a simple design towards the bottom of the wall. It was an empty, white board with various figures and words around it. "I thought it was fitting for a first piece. It's supposed to mean a clean state," Zayn explained, watching Harry trade his fingers over the art slowly.

  
"It is fitting. That's what I thought too, on the first day i moved here. New beginnings." Harry smiled softly.

  
As Harry walked around, admiring the art, Zayn admired the art right in front of him, Harry. "So what brought you to Paris? Are you an artist as well?"

  
"I'm trying to be a writer." Harry shrugged. "My editor doesn't think I'm ready for publishing. I would publish it myself, but I don't have the resources or money to do that."

  
"Your editor sounds like an ass." Zayn frowned, glancing over at Harrys scowl.

  
Harry chuckled slightly. "That's what Nick said too. You're both very right about that."

  
"Nick?" Zayn asked with a raised eyebrow. "Who's Nick?"

  
"Are you jealous?" Harry asked, amusement clear on his face.

  
Zayn scoffed at that. "No. I just was curious. I've never heard about him before."

  
Harry grinned even wider at that. "No. I think you're jealous," he hummed, taking a step closer to Zayn.

  
Zayn wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pulling him closer until they were forehead to forehead. "Not jealous. Just wanna know the facts. Do you fuck Nick?" he asked bluntly, licking over his lips slowly.

  
Harry's breath hitched a bit at the close contact, his hands immediately resting on Zayn's chest. "Every day," he answered, a teasing edge in his voice. He was about to follow up the statement with a chuckle and "I'm joking," but Zayn cut him off.

  
Zayns eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't look mad. He looked determined. "Is he better than me?" Zayn whispered lowly in Harrys ear before pressing the man up against the wall.

  
With a shudder, Harry shook his head. "Nobody's better than you," Harry answered quickly, chest rising and falling as he stared up at Zayn.

  
Zayn smirked at that, cupping Harrys face with the hand that wasn't around his waist before kissing him softly. "I know,” he whispered cheekily into the other mans mouth.

  
Harry groaned at that, kissing Zayn back eagerly. They had just fucked this morning but the simplest touch got him desperate again. It was embarrassing.

  
"I don't want to see you with someone else," Zayn admitted in between rough kisses to Harrys lips.

  
"I feel the same but you're a prostitute, and I'm going to be one as well," Harry whispered, pulling back from Zayns lips so he could stare up at him.

  
Zayn nodded slowly, running his thumb down Harry's cheek. "I know. That's why we wouldn't work."

  
Harrys heart stupidly sunk at that. "Is that the only reason why we wouldn't work?" he asked after a moment, his voice shaking a little as he asked.

  
Zayn smiled sadly at Harry, shaking his head. "You don't want to have this conversation right now, Harry," Zayn responded before pulling away from Harry.

  
Harry stared up at Zayn in disbelief, hurt clear on his face. He didn't say anything, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something stupid.

  
Zayn looked away, his expression unreadable. "Let's get ready. Your first clients appointment is in an hour."

  
Harry simply nodded, the words Zayn had just said running through his mind on a continuous loop. His ears started to ring, probably with his upset and nervousness about what he was about to do.

  
"Ready to go?" Zayn asked from behind Harry, dressed in a blue button up with fitted black jeans.

  
Harry was dressed the same, except his button up was red. "Yup. Let's do this."

  
"Want something to take the edge off?" Zayn breathed in Harrys ear. "You're so tense," he noted as he touched Harry's shoulders.

  
Harry didn't respond, simply shrugged Zayns hands off him, shook his head and then walked to the car.

  
~  
They were in the same club they had gone to a few days ago, even in the same seat of the vip section. The only difference was that Harry sat next to Zayn instead of in his lap. Their thighs were the only part of them touching.

  
"Isn't it bad business to mix your two jobs?" Harry asked slowly after he saw the same guy Zayn had dealt to a few days ago, staring at them.

  
"No, it's easier. All my clients can find me here regardless of whatever they need." Zayn shrugged. "This is my territory."

  
Harry shrugged a little. "That's one way of looking at it."

  
"You don't look at it like that?"

  
"No." Harry shook his head. "I think it makes you an easier target."

  
Zayn didn't respond, because two attractive men were walking up to them. Zayn stood up, so Harry did the same.

  
The tall, muscular brunette came up to Harry with a mischievous smile. "You must be Harry. Hi. My name is David. You're prettier than I was told."

  
"C’est garanti que je vais te foudre. Tu ne dois pas me charmer aussi,” Harry mumbled in swift French  his smiled forced as he shook David's hand.

  
David chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I don't speak French. What was that?"

  
Zayn was glaring at Harry, the expression clearly ordering him to behave.

  
"It's lovely to meet you also," Harry lied, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he glanced over at Zayn.

  
Zayn was chatting up his client, his hands already on the man's waist. It made Harry's skin crawl.

  
David's arms were wrapping around Harry's waist at about that time, lips already grazing Harrys ear and whispering "Why don't we take this somewhere more private?"

  
Harry couldn't say anything, he just nodded. He gave Zayn one last parting glance before following David into one of the private rooms.  
~  
The next morning, Harry didn't exactly wake up, since he couldn't sleep. Last night was haunting him, and saying that was stupid because it wasn't even bad. David was nice, and more gentle than anybody he'd been with in a long time. Harry just felt dirty after. He sold himself, and regardless of the reason, that still disgusted him. It was Zayn's bed that he was in, which was weird, since they hadn't left on good terms last night. He supposed it was endearing, Zayn looking after him even though he pushed him away, but he couldn't bring himself to admit that. Zayn didn't want to date Harry, and that made things even worse than they already were. That's why Harry had been in such a terrible mood going into the appointment, and that's why Harry still felt terrible. Deciding a shower would help, Harry pulled himself out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He heard the water already running, but continued to walk in anyways. He slipped past the shower curtains and stepped into the shower, not looking at Zayn initially.

Zayns gaze was clearly locked on Harry's back, Harry could feel his eyes. Harry could feel his hands, fingertips that almost hesitantly ran up and down Harry's spine.

Harry's breathing slowed somewhat at the comforting touches, but he didn't bother to speak out just yet.

Zayn did. He took a step closer to Harry, dropping his hand from his back so he could wrap it around his waist. "I'm sorry," he spoke softly, after a long pause.

Harrys back was still to Zayn, meaning Zayn could clearly see how he tensed up when he heard the apology.

"I should've known that it wasn't for you. I was only thinking of myself. I'm sorry," Zayn continued, running soft hands over Harry's hips.

Harry turned around slowly, finally glancing up at Zayn. He maintained eye contact with him for a few seconds before he buried himself in Zayns arms, his face immediately going to rest on Zayn's shoulder.

Zayn tightened his hold on Harry's waist, his other hand rubbing Harrys back soothingly.

Harry didn't say anything, since his throat felt full and heavy. He knew if he opened his mouth he would cry.

As Zayn soothed Harry, he spoke softly, "I'm assuming you don't want to be involved with it anymore."

Harry nodded slowly, opening his mouth to speak. When he did, though, a soft whimper left him.

"Did he do anything bad to you?" Zayn asked, clearly concerned when he heard the upset in Harry's voice.

Harry shook his head wordlessly, pulling back from Zayns shoulder.

"So you're upset because you feel dirty?" Zayn asked, not waiting for Harry to respond to continue. "I felt like that too sometimes. Gross. It's like I can't bear to live in my body sometimes. If that makes any sense."

When Harry responded, his voice was shaky and weak. "You don't have to do it anymore. You're rich. You have options. I don't. But I can't continue with this Zayn, I can't."

Zayn opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly. He didn't say anything else, just simply let Harry bury his face back into his shoulder and cry.

~

It was Zayn who suggested Harry take a trip to his mum's. He didn't invite himself, and Harry thought it would be too soon to invite Zayn. So, Harry was on a train alone to England, Cheshire specifically. Harry thought back to the conversation, a slight smile on his face.

"You just need to clear your head. It helps. I call my mum whenever I can. If I could visit her I would.." Zayn trailed off sadly.

With a frown, Harry looked up at Zayn and asked, “Why can’t you?”

  
“Things weren’t exactly good once I left. I left the company that my dad got me a job for. It was a slap in his face apparently. So now i’m not really welcome there anymore.”

  
“Not welcome in your own home?” Harry asked, frown deepening at that. “Thats.. I’m sorry.”

  
“I did it to myself.” Zayn shrugged, cutting Harry off. “I didn’t have to come here. I could’ve stayed. I could’ve figured things out…”

  
Harry thought about that for a moment. He specifically had felt a certain pull to Paris, like he had to be there. He couldn’t imagine having to chose between his family and his dream. Even though he had failed, his family still supported him.

  
Zayn spoke again before Harry could. “Don’t overthink this. Go see your family for me, yeah? It would make me really happy if you saw them.”

  
Initially hesitant, Harry nodded. All his apprehensiveness was gone. He was going to go for Zayn. He had to.

  
~  
It was like Harry’s whole body relaxed once he was engulfed by his mum's warm embrace. The house smelt like cinnamon candles, freshly brewed tea, and a home cooked meal. His house looked the same as it had when he last saw it, which made his heart ache a little. So much had changed since that last time, but now, standing in his childhood home none of those changes seemed overwhelmingly important.

“I missed you so much, mum,” were the first words to come out of Harry’s mouth from his happy place, in his mothers arms. Soothing hands were running down his back as they hugged, which, Harry didn’t know what he would have done without the gentle reminder that no matter what, his family loved and supported him.

Zayn didn’t have that, and that made Harry's heart hurt. It was only when his mum replied with a flood of “i miss you too”s and “how have you been, love” that Harry realized he was bringing everything back to Zayn. He couldn’t not think about him, though. Everything for Harry went back to Zayn. The whole reason why Harry was visiting his mum was to appease Zayn, not because he wanted to see his family. Obviously, Harry did want to see his family, but he wouldn’t have followed through with it without Zayn telling him to.

Thats how they started out, with Zayn telling him to buy a drink at the bar. Harry listened, of course he did. It was in his nature to be captivated by people, especially people like Zayn. The mysterious man was unique in every way, and it had drawn Harry in. Sure, the piercingly good looks helped engage Harry at first sight, but it was Zayns mannerisms and personality that really kept Harry around.

For fucks sake, Harry said yes to selling his body because Zayn had suggested it. It had ended badly, but even then Harry didn’t blame Zayn. It genuinely wasn’t his fault, and even if it was, Harry would never admit that. It was because when Harry developed feelings, it wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Everything Harry did was intense and complete, especially the way he loved. He sometimes tried to ignore that, because it made him vulnerable. He was vulnerable, and fucking terrified, because he knew Zayn didn’t feel the same way.

The last time Harry fell in love his ears rung and he had mistaken the noise that should have been perceived as warning bells as wedding bells. He fell blindly, always, and never registered the damage until somebody else pointed it out.

His mum's soft voice was what interrupted his thoughts. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Sorry?" Harrys raised eyebrow and scrunched up expression feigned confusion when in reality he knew exactly what his mum was talking about. "Not really sure what you're talking about, actually," was Harrys sheepish response when he pulled back from the hug.

"Oh, right." Anne nodded, clearly not believing a word Harry said. "You act like I haven't seen you when you fancy somebody. A mother always knows."

With a pout, Harry considered that. His mother had seen him through it all, during his first love, most recent boyfriend and every person who stole his heart in between. "His name is Zayn."

His mother took a seat when Harry started to talk. Without interrupting, she patted the seat next to her so Harry could sit.

When Harry sat down, he continued to speak. “He’s.. really great. But it's complicated. I don't think it's going to work out. He doesn't want to be with me."

"Why wouldn't he want to be with you?" was his mothers first question. "Also, what's so complicated? If you have feelings for each other, what's the problem?"

Harry shook his head. "I dunno. He didn't tell me why he didn't want to. I'm afraid I'll push him away if I tell him I want to be with him."

With a little shrug, Anne considered it. "It's a possibility. But, if he's scared away by a tiny bit of commitment, a relationship wouldn't work anyways. Wouldn't you rather know rather than spend your life wondering?"

The honesty of his mothers answer was what truly made him decide to try it. "Yeah, that's.. Yeah. I'll talk to him about it. Definitely. Thanks mum."

As they got into another conversation about how they both were doing, a sense of giddiness took over Harry. He was going to ask Zayn what the problem was and why they couldn't try to be together. Then, he was going to fix the problem so they could be together. Harry liked the sound of that.

~

Harry heard chatter in his apartment when he approached the door, which, wasn't really uncommon. He was used to Nick bringing his friends home, had grown fond of them, actually.

When Harry opened the door, though, he saw that it wasn't Nicks friends in his living room. It was Zayn.

"The man of the hour! Hey," Nick exclaimed, a lopsided grin on his face. "How was mum?"

Harry blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Good. Um. Why's there an intruder in here?" he asked dryly, trying not to smile at Zayn.

"Oi. That's not any way to treat our guests," Nick scolded, eyes flickering from Harry to Zayn quickly.

"It's alright. I'm used to his mouth." Zayn shrugged, pulling Harry onto his lap as soon as he passed by.

With flushed cheeks, Harry focused on wrapping his legs around Zayns waist quietly. "Why're you in my house?" Harry asked, finally gazing up into the intense eyes already staring down at him.

"Had some business to do with Nick. Don't worry about it."

Harry's face almost instantly fell. "You guys fucked?" He expected a snarky response from Nick, but it was only then that he realized his roommate had politely stepped out of the room.

"No. Not that kind of business." Zayn shook his head quickly. "I didn't give him drugs either. I know what you're thinking. No drugs or sex for Nick."

Harry forced his lips to pout, only so he didn't smile, though. "It wasn't unreasonable of me to assume that."

Zayn shook his head, soothing hands running through Harrys hair as he spoke. "I wouldn't fuck your roommate, Harry. I can’t believe you’d actually assume that.”

“You fuck everybody else.” The words flew out of Harrys mouth before he realized what it was that he was even saying. He wasn’t, trying to upset Zayn. He was just stating a fact.

When Zayns eyes narrowed, he knew he had hit a nerve. “I fuck people for a living. Incase you forgot, this is how I get money. The money I use to buy you shit.”

The sinking feeling in Harry’s chest was exasperated by Zayns hands pushing him off his lap. As soon as Harrys feet hit the floor, Zayn stood up.

“I never asked you to buy me anything. You did that on your own accord.”

Silence fell amongst them when Harry shut his mouth in an attempt to collect his thoughts. When he saw Zayn wasn’t planning on answering, Harry continued. “I appreciate it, obviously, but don’t make me feel bad for something you did willingly, Zayn.”

Zayns features were still hard, jaw clenched and hands stiff at his sides. With a sigh, Harry spoke again. “I’m not judging you for your job. I understand why you do it. I did it too, remember? The reason I reacted the way I did just now, is because, well quite honestly i’m jealous. It’s dumb, and i’m sorry for making you upset, but i’m not sorry for developing feelings for you. It was impossible not to.” Harrys shrug was sheepish, but not at all apologetic.

Expression and tone annoyingly unreadable, Zayns response was simple. “Is that what you spoke to your mum about? Your feelings about me?”

At Harry’s nod, Zayn resumed talking, “Did you tell her that I sell drugs and myself? Did she tell you to stay away from fuck ups like me?” Zayns voice had an unsettlingly nasty, bitter edge to it. He sounded similar to how he had when he beat the robber up in the alley.

With a shiver, Harry shook his head. “No, Zayn. Neither one of us said that because you’re not a fuck up. You did what you had to do to survive. Now you’re rich and you can do what you love. I don’t think that’s a fuck up.”

Zayn didn’t appear to be listening, though. His gaze was distant, and his speech was slightly delayed. “Sure, I got what I wanted. But at what price?”

Harrys stomach dropped for a second time. “Zayn,” He whispered, making an effort to be gentle and calm with the clearly damaged man. “You don’t- you don’t have to do that anymore. You said yourself! You said anybody could leave whenever they wanted. You could leave all that behind. For me. We could start over together. Please.”

“You hardly even know me, Harry,” Zayn mumbled icily, his eyes looking anywhere but at the man in front of him.  When he grabbed his jacket from where it hung across the back of the chair, Harry stopped him.

“I know enough! I know that my feelings for you are real and not going away anytime soon. I know I want more than sex from you. I know that I admire your art and bravery and I know I want to know more about you. I know I want to help you make things right with your family, and I want to help you get away from things that clearly make you unhappy. Let me in, and I can help. Please.” Harry was on the verge of tears with desperation, because he was all in, and he needed Zayn to be too.

Zayns gaze remained cold, even after he saw Harry getting choked up. It was more a facade than anything, though. Harry could see the way Zayn winced, slightly, but Harry caught it, when Harry wiped his eyes. "You have a whole future ahead of you. I'm not gonna let you lose focus of that just because I fucked up." It sounded like Zayn had to force the syllables out, like he was focusing hard on not crying out.

"Me? I have a future?" Harry couldn't help but exclaim in disbelief. "I'm broke! I have no money. I don't have a publisher. My editor even told me I have no chance at being a writer! He told me "not to quit my day job". I don't even have a day job! I quit that so I could move to Paris and follow my dream but that didn't work. I have nothing to work with. You though, you have something." Harry could hear himself rambling, but he couldn't help it. He was worked up and angry. "How dare you say you don't have a future. You have money and your dream career. What else could you want?" Harry was practically yelling in Zayns face, now. He was too riled up to really think and consider any type of rational thought. It was like Zayn poured salt on a wound he didn't know existed, by rejecting him with a lame excuse about "the future".

Zayns jaw seemed to tighten at Harry's words. He narrowed his eyes, as if that would make them stop watering. He kept opening his mouth and then quickly closing it again, as if he was debating internally on what to say. The silence fell on them awkwardly, the room silent except for their heavy breathing. It was wordless and it was quick, when Zayn gave Harry one last parting glance before walking out of the apartment. He didn't slam the door behind him, he shut it gently, which in Harry's opinion was even worse.

~

Harry slept in uncharacteristically late. Nick didn't nag him to wake up, he only found out later that Nick was out for the morning. When Harry finally crawled out of bed to make himself a tea, Nick came walking through the door.

"Morning, sunshine," Nick belted from the doorway, making a big deal out of taking off his coat and shoes.

Harry felt like he was hungover, it would've been more fun. He would have had an excuse for moping. "Hi," Harry curtly responded, before going back to his tea.

Nick practically pranced across the room, not stopping until he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and placed his chin on Harry's shoulder. "Smile, princess. This is going to be the best day of your life."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?" he asked, tone obviously accusatory, but it was justified. Nicks idea of "best day of your life" and Harrys idea varied completely.

Nick just grinned, making a loud smooching noise when he planted a kiss on Harry's cheek. "You should be expecting a call soon. Get your peppy voice on. All that jazz. Maybe practice smiling in the mirror a few times. If you want. But I would suggest it."

Slamming his elbow into Nicks ribs, Harry wiggled out of his roommates grip. "You know I hate surprises, asshole."

"But you're gonna love this one," Nick promised, running a finger through Harrys hair before walking to his room.

Asshole. A scowling Harry finished his tea, pouring himself a cup immediately. He was halfway through his cup when the phone rang. It wasn't a restricted number, so it couldn't have been Nick pranking him. After letting it ring for a moment, Harry clicked accept.

"Hello?" Harry answered, clearing his throat slightly so he didn't sound too groggy.

"Hi this is Caroline Flack from HarperCollins publishing, can I speak to Harry Styles please?" a friendly woman asked.

Trying not to show his confusion, Harry cleared his throat again. "Um. Yes ma'am this is Harry Styles. How can I help you?"

"Right, well Mr. Malik sent me a copy of your book, and it is fantastic. My editors and I loved it, and we'd like to publish it as soon as possible. Would that be something you'd be interested in?"

Harry's mouth fell open as soon as Caroline finished speaking. Zayn gave the publishing company his book. The publishing company wanted his book. Harry was silent, because, he wasn't sure he could speak without crying out in happiness. "Oh wow," Harry ended up breathing, focusing on breathing normally so Caroline didn't take back her offer. "Sorry, I'm just so unbelievably happy. This is truly a dream come true. I would love to publish with you. Yes." Harry nodded his head, even though she couldn't see him.

Harry could hear the smile in Caroline's voice when she responded. "I'm happy we could make you happy, Harry. You're so talented and we can't wait to work with you. We'd like to bring you in for a meeting tomorrow afternoon. Would that be okay with you?"

"More than okay, Miss Flack," Harry breathed out cheerfully. "I'll be there." He nodded, after writing down the address Caroline had given him. "I can't thank you enough for this opportunity."

"You earned it," Caroline spoke softly on the other line, and Harry swore he could hear sincerity in her voice. "I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Mr. Styles. Enjoy the rest of your day." She smiled before hanging up the phone.

Harry was staring at his phone in awe, a huge smile spread across his face. His whole body felt light but simultaneously full of happiness. When he looked up, Nick was grinning up at him from the doorway.

"You had something to do with this," Harry breathed out, running over to Nick and jumping into his arms.

With a laugh, Nick nodded. "Zayn came over and asked if he could get a copy of your book. That's why he was here. He said he knew a publisher, and I guess he did. I'm happy for you."

Harry buried his face into his roommates neck, mulling over what he had just said. He accused Zayn of fucking his roommate when in reality he had came over to help Harry immensely. Harry's heart sank at that. "I gotta go talk to Zayn."

Nick nodded, gently setting Harry down and then running a thumb across his cheek. "Good luck, babe."

Harry sighed as he grabbed his shoes and coat. He was going to need all the luck he could get.

~

"I'm coming over. Can you unlock the doors?" Harry texted Zayn before he pulled out of the apartment parking lot. He never got a response, but when he drove to Zayns neighborhood, he had no problem getting in. In fact, when he told security his name, they informed him that he was on the approved persons list. Not having time to mull over what that meant, Harry parked his car before walking up to Zayns door.

Harry lifted his knuckle up to knock, but before his hand touched the door, Zayn was opening it slowly. With an awkward cough, Harry put his hands at his sides. “Thanks. So um, is it alright if I come in?” The question sounded awkward, but he supposed it was because the last time he had talked to Zayn was when he screamed at the guy.

As soon as Harry glanced at up the other man, he nodded. "C'mon in." Zayns tone was significantly softer than Harry anticipated, nicer than he deserved.

The moment Harry stepped inside, he felt suffocated by the silence. It was intolerable, especially with the combination of Zayns intense stare wearing him down as well. "You didn't have to do it."

Zayns stare didn't falter, nor did his mouth open. It made Harry uneasy, the way a simple eyebrow raise could make him stutter. It was unfair.

"Getting my book published," Harry clarified, as if he had to remind Zayn of what he had done. "Zayn, what you did.. That meant the world to me. I don't know how I can thank you enough-"

Harrys rambling was cut off by Zayns cool, "Don't mention it."

It threw Harry off, to say the least. "Zayn." Harry sighed as he tried to figure out when things between them had got so distant and awkward.

"Seriously Harry. I thought about what you said, and I wanted to help you out. You don't have to be stuck here like I am. You can finally follow your dreams all around the world." Zayns tone was seemingly distant, his gaze clearly the wall behind Harry.

"But that's the thing, Zayn. I don't want you to live vicariously through me. I don't want to travel the world while you're still in Paris, miserable. I want you to travel the world and showcase your art wherever you want. With me. I want you to do that with me."

Zayns head shook before Harry was even finished. The younger man could feel his heart beginning to sink. "You're not even listening to me, are you? Nothing I could say will ever change your mind, will it?" Harry realized, after glancing at Zayn once more.

All Zayn could say was a weak "Sorry," which, made the tears in Harry's eyes appear a bit faster.

"Thank you for the opportunity. I'm gonna go now," Harry told Zayn, not really expecting any sort of resistance, or any response at all for that matter. It was clear Zayn didn't want anything to do with him.

When Harry grabbed the door knob, Zayn spoke. It was a faint mumble, though, so Harry couldn’t make out what exactly what he had said. “What?” Harry asked, turning around so he was facing Zayn once more.

“Good luck,” was Zayns simple reply. Harry wanted to scream. He would have, if Zayn wasn’t the one who set him up with a famous publisher. He didn’t bother to respond though, his whole body aching with hurt from the rejection as he walked out the door. He could feel Zayns stare on the entire walk back to his car, but he didn’t dare turn around. As he started up his car, Zayns words echoed through his mind. Now he had everything he had ever wanted, but at what price?

~

The meeting with Caroline Flack was everything Harry could have ever dreamed of and more. Caroline herself was dressed from head to toe in designer clothing, and she even smelt expensive. She was brief, summarizing her words in clipped, fast breathes because “time is money”. “Basically once the book is published you’re going to fly out to London to start the book tour. From there you’ll travel around Europe. Depending on how book sales are, we’ll decide if you’re going to fly to America or stay in Europe and do more book promotions. Your tour will be linked to the various other authors who published books with us, so you’ll already have a following. We also took the liberty to post brief snippets of your book on social media to get people interested. It worked. We have hundreds of people ecstatic to purchase your book. Your first book signing is completely sold out. I already know this entire tour will be a massive success, and I truly cannot wait to work with you. Do you have any questions? Otherwise head home and enjoy the rest of your stay in Paris,” Caroline ended her rambling with a smile.

Harry, clearly overwhelmed and speechless nodded for a good minute before finding his voice. “I apologize, Miss Flack. I’m a bit overwhelmed right now, this is such a change, but i’m grateful and thankful. I’m ready to get started promoting whenever you are.”

Carolines grin only widened at Harry's words. “That’s what I like to hear, Mr. Styles. We’ll be in touch.” She gave Harry a parting handshake before briskly walking off, leaving Harry in awe.

London was on the horizon, and everything was working out for him. Well, except Zayn, but Harry didn’t think Zayn was an option for him anymore. He was trying to be okay with that.

~

The surrealness of the situation blinded Harry. The reality of Harry's dreams actually coming true didn’t actually hit until he was on the plane with Nick. Nick was relieved to get out of Paris, rambling about all the “areseholes he encountered during his time there”. Harry just smiled, not bothering to respond, because in just a month, he was holding his very first published book. Nothing else mattered, not even the fact that Zayn hadn’t answered any of his texts or calls before he left. Harry considered checking his phone again, but he had already memorized what their conversation looked like.

“I’m sorry for coming by your house and bothering you. I just wanted to thank you again. I wish I could help you.”

“I wish you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Harry.”

“Then why wouldn’t you answer any of my texts?”

“You already know why.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“I miss you.”

“Only two more days left in Paris. Maybe we could meet up?”

“Or not.. Sorry for asking.”

“My flight is tomorrow afternoon if you want to come see me in the airport.”

“Is there somebody else?”

That was the last text Harry had sent Zayn, a constant reminder of the possibility that maybe Zayn was involved with somebody else. Maybe he had met a client of his or somebody who bought his art, somebody who wasn’t Harry. Harry wasn’t able to torture himself anymore, though, since the pilot was telling everybody to turn their phones off to prepare for take off. He glanced at Zayns last text message to him once more before turning off his phone.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

~

The book signing was chaotic and loud, filled with dozens of people fussing over him. Every inch of him was fussed over, even though the people arriving were here for his book and mind, not his face.

“Harry, darling, remember, just be yourself, don’t be nervous. There’s only about, 200 people? Maybe more. Don’t worry though!” Caroline told Harry dismissively as she walked into the back room.

Harry hadn’t seen the front room yet, so hadn’t seen anybody waiting for him. He hadn’t been nervous for that reason, and plus he hadn’t had time to be nervous. However, now that Caroline had mentioned it, he was fucking nervous.

“Um,” Harry mumbled out, voice inaudible compared to the chatter of people with him in the room.

“You’ll be great, love,” Caroline assured Harry with a firm pat on the back, “now get out there and make me proud.”

Harry gulped down the lump in his throat, following Caroline. He approached the door that would allow him to walk into the book signing for the first time, and he paused. He glanced at the door, basking in the chatter on both sides, before walking through.

Within two steps of entering, his eyes locked with Zayn, the very first person on line. A microphone was being handed to Harry, so he took it, still staring at Zayn.   
  


“Erm. Hiii. My name is Harry Styles-” Harry was cut off by the somewhat startling cheer following his introduction. That was going to take some getting used to.

Zayns eyes never left Harry, an almost fond smile spread across his face, even touching his eyes.

With a nervous laugh, Harry continued, "I'm gonna be signing some books and answering a few questions today. But first Id like to thank each and every one of you. Your presence here.. It truly means the world to me." Harrys words were soft and from his heart, since he was talking directly to Zayn the entire time.

Cheer followed Harry's words, bringing color to his cheeks. “Anyways. You all are in a nice single file line, which makes things much easier. Thank you.” Harry nodded, shooting Zayn another smile before getting situated behind the table. He grabbed hold of the pen, before ushering to Zayn to come forward.

“You’re the last person I expected to see here,” Harry admitted, taking hold of his own book when Zayn handed it to him.

“I was an idiot,” Zayn rushed out, a mix of apologetic and embarrassed. “I kept thinking about what you said, and I realized that you were right.”

Harrys raised eyebrow was impossible to conceal when he glanced up at Zayn. They locked eyes for a moment before he went back to autographing Zayns book. He had so much to say to Zayn, but yet he couldn’t find his voice just yet.

Zayn continued, not even faltering from Harrys cool behavior. “You were right. I’m not a fuck up. I had to forgive myself first, it was hard for me at first, like you knew. I kept pushing you away, I shouldn’t of done that. I’m sorry.”

Harrys pen stilled at that, his wide eyes glancing up at Zayn. He never expected an apology, never expected Zayn to care enough to fly to his book signing to apologize. “Um.”

“I know it’s not much. I know I was shitty to you, and i can’t apologize enough for that. I thought if I got your book published you’d see how much better you could do. You still wanted me though, I never understood that.”

“When I first met you, Zayn, I couldn’t understand why you were interested in me. You were gorgeous and intimidating, but also sweet. You had this huge house and I had nothing-”

“It wasn’t about the money,” Zayn cut Harry off quickly. “Buying you things never bothered me. I never cared, I liked it. When I said that, I didn’t mean to imply-”

Harry nodded slowly. “I know. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant.. I don’t know. Its just, we were in completely different places when we met and we still developed feelings for each other. It made me realize that love doesn’t make sense. It’s not supposed to. It’s fucking confusing and scary but I want to try and understand it. With you,” Harry rushed the words out as fast as he could, not wanting to lose his nerve.

Under Zayns clearly shocked, intimidating gaze, Harry continued, "I meant what I said about wanting to travel with you, you know."

Zayn blinked a few times, surveying Harrys face, almost checking to see if he was serious. After a moment, Zayn nodded. “I know. Thats why I came prepared.” With a grin, he opened up his bag to reveal his passport. “Incase we wanted to go somewhere outside of Europe.”

Harrys dimples appeared on his face immediately, his breathing rapidly speeding up. “You’re- you’re actually serious about this.”

"Never been more serious." Zayn nodded. "While I was reading your book, it made me realize that I was being dumb. It was all about following your dreams and doing things that made you happy. That's you. You make me happy, Harry. You're my dream, and I'm gonna follow you anywhere and everywhere."

Harry just gasped, speechless from Zayns romantic words. Luckily, he didn't have to respond, since Zayn was being ushered along to make room for new fans. With a wink and a mouthed promise of "I'll see you later", Zayn walked off.

Per usual, all Harry could do was stare. He didn't have time to collect his thoughts or slow his rapidly pounding heart, though, since the next fan was already walking up to Harry and gushing about his book.

~

When Harry got back to the hotel room that Caroline had reserved for them, the door was already cracked open. When Harry pushed it open, he saw Zayn leaning against the window that he was smoking out of. Harry enjoyed the view for a moment, wondering if he'd ever get used to Zayn casually making himself comfortable in his hotel. He hoped so.

"Thought this was a no smoking establishment." Harry chuckled as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

"So they say. However, I pulled a few strings and made sure that my smoking won't be an issue in any of the hotels that we stay in." Zayn smirked, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"Hotel that we stay in? I like the sound of that. But does Caroline?" Harry couldn’t imagine the Caroline he knew allowing Zayn to smoke in a strictly no smoking hotel.

“Caroline didn’t just allow it, she encouraged it.” Zayn smirked, in between slow puffs of smoke. After putting out the cigarette, he closed the window. When he glanced at Harry, he chuckled softly. “Carolines an old friend.”

Harry smiled slightly. “You have a lot of friends.”

“Depends on what you consider a friend, I suppose.” Zayn shrugged coyly, watching Harry closely from his place across the room.

With a shrug, Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Suppose you’re right. What about me? Am I your friend?” He asked, just as coy.

“Definitely not.” Zayn shook his head, a slight curve playing on his lips while he spoke. “Thats for sure.”

“Aw. Thats a shame. I’m a nice friend.” Harry informed Zayn, wiggling out of his jeans as he casually spoke. “I’m very nice to my friends.” Harrys smile was innocent when he finally kicked off his jeans, revealing the pair of panties he was wearing.

Zayn cleared his throat, adjusting his pants in an embarrassingly obvious manner. “Well, I think i’d like to make you my friend, then.”

Harry just smirked at that, pretending to think it over as he got on the bed. When he positioned himself, he made sure his ass was facing Zayn. “I don’t want you to be my friend.”

“Oh no?” Zayn asked, voice dropping a few octaves with arousal as he made his way across the room. “I think you’d find our friendship to be.. mutually beneficial.” Zayns lips were pressed to Harrys neck, hands groping Harrys ass through the panties.

“No.” Harrys whisper could still be heard, even when his breathing started to noticeably quicken. “Want you to be my boyfriend.”

All Zayn could do in response was let out a groan before he manhandled Harry onto his back.

~

The next morning Harry woke up to Zayns torso pressing up against his back. Instead of a greeting Zayn mumbled,"I knew you were the little spoon", and pressed a kiss to Harrys shoulder.

“This is something I could get used to really quickly,” Harry leaned his head back to peck Zayns lips before continuing, “your arms, your snores, your stinky morning breath-”

Harry was interrupted by Zayns strong arms starting to tickle him. When Harry started to squeak in between hysterical laughter and attempt to squirm away, Zayn pinned him down. “Say I don’t snore, and that I don’t have morning breath.”

“Alright alright. I could say that you don’t snore, and that you don’t have morning breath,” Harry rushed out, clearly struggling to slow his own breathing. “There’s only one problem.”

Zayn raised an eyebrow at that. “Whats the problem?”

“I mean, if i told you that you don’t snore and you don’t have morning breath i’d be lying.” Harrys smile was sweet and seemingly innocent, even when Zayns eyes narrowed.

Harry made a move to squirm away, but Zayn was faster, pinning him down once again. With a smile, Harry stared up at him.

Zayn held his gaze, dropping his hand from Harrys wrists so he could caress his cheek instead. “You’re the prettiest piece of art i’ve ever seen.”

Harry couldn’t hide his blush. “You think i’m pretty?” His tone was hopeful.

“More than pretty. I think you’re art. I want to draw you one day.”

“You only draw things that are important to you.” Harry breathed out. It was almost a reminder to Zayn, an opportunity to change his mind if he wanted to.

Zayns reply was immediate. “You’re important to me,” after a slight pause, Zayn continued. “I want you to be my boyfriend. I didn’t wanna say yes while we were having sex, because I didn’t want you to think it was only about sex for me. Its always been about more. So i’m asking you, and i’m sorry its shitty timing and not romantic, but do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he felt like his cheeks were going to burst from his wide smile. “No, its perfect for us. I mean, our whole relationship has been spontaneous and unique and I don’t think you asking me out has to be a big romantic gesture. Right here, in your arms, is perfect. This is perfect.” After a moment, Harry let out a soft giggle. “Yes, by the way. I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Zayn broke out into a relieved grin when Harry clarified. He stared into Harrys eyes for another moment before pulling him in for a long kiss.

~

The second stop on his book tour was Belgium. Caroline insisted on flying everywhere, and Harry wasn't opposed, so. He found himself holding hands with Zayn when the plane finally landed. Harrys eyes were wandering while Zayn spoke quietly into his ear about random people they saw on their trip to the baggage claim.

"See that guy? Definitely flying to see his drug dealer." Zayn nodded to a middle aged man walking briskly through the airport.

Harry snorted at that. "Or his family. Why would you fly to see a drug dealer?"

"You would be surprised the lengths people go to get the goods." Zayn replied solemnly before suggestively wiggling his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't doubt it. Especially your goods." Harry quipped, nudging him gently.

"Yeah I agree. The people are outraged because they can't get my goods anymore. I quit. I'm clean. Art is my only career. Well, art and keeping you happy." Zayn shrugged, reaching up to tuck Harrys curls behind his ear.

With red cheeks, Harry couldn't help but stare up at Zayn. Not being able to resist, he pecked his lips. "How did you get out of that?" He asked, almost like an after thought.

"I told my boss that I had stolen three thousand dollars worth of drugs and that if he didn't fire me I would give it to our biggest rival for free."

With wide eyes, Harry swatted Zayns shoulder. "You could've gotten yourself killed. Idiot. I swear, I would've killed you if you got killed. So keep yourself alive."

As Zayn grabbed both of their bags, he nodded. "Yes sir."

Harry cracked a smile at that, nudging Zayn fondly as they started to walk. "Hey. That's what I call you."

"Thought I was your boyfriend." Zayn grinned.

"That to," Harry beamed. "C'mon, we gotta get back to the hotel."

"Patience is a virtue."

Harry shrugged. "Fine. But I'm not having sex after midnight since I have a morning book signing tomorrow. Your choice."

It took Zayn a moment to consider before he scooped Harry up and carried him to the cab.

~

After an interview at noon in Amsterdam, Zayn surprised Harry with flowers and a trip to the art museum.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'd never been to an art museum before?" Harry asked, nose pressed to the roses Zayn had got for him. “The flowers are beautiful, by the way. Thank you.”

"I like being your first, and i’m glad you like them." Zayn pecked Harrys lips before he started walking Harry through the museum.

Zayns jovial tone relaxed Harry a little, he didn't feel as intimidated as he initially did. "Are you gonna show me the special piece that you’ve been talking about?"

"It's right here." Zayn nodded, pointing to a gorgeous watercolor painting of a woman in a field, blooming flowers on each side of her.

"It's gorgeous." Harry breathed, not being able to take his eyes away from the painting. "What's the authors name?"

"Zayn." Zayn replied, a slight smile on his face when he reached up to touch the painting. "It was the first painting I ever published, it was the first work I was ever proud of. It's of my mother."

Harry wasn’t able to mask his surprise. “You made this?” He kept his surprised squeak a low volume, even though he wanted to scream. “I’m in love with it Zayn, you’re unbelievably talented.”

The “i’m in love with you” was left hanging on Harrys tongue, too scared to be said.

~

After a long day in Switzerland, Zayn pounced on Harry as soon as he walked through the hotel door. Currently, Zayn was fucking Harry against the wall, Harrys legs and arms wrapped around Zayn to hold him up. “God, you’re incredible.” Zayns voice was low, muffled against his mouths place on Harrys neck.

Harrys head was thrown back as he muttered obscenities, his nails digging into Zayns chest. “Fuck Zayn, harder.” Harry started to beg. His thighs were shaking with exertion and he was sweating everywhere, but he still wanted it harder.

Zayn, without pulling out, spread Harrys cheeks so that he could feel the way his big cock spread his boy open. “You take me so well, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, fuck, Zayn, please.” Harry was babbling now, he didn’t even know what he was babbling for, he was just desperate. He dug his nails into Zayns chest again, partly to get a reaction out of him and partly to leave a mark.

Zayn stilled completely inside Harry, hooded eyes glancing at Harrys face to gauge his reaction. As soon as Harry met his eyes, he started again, long, deep thrusts directed at Harrys prostate.

Harry swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head with the pleasure Zayn was giving him. His whole body started to tremble, loud moans spilling out of his mouth in response. “ ‘m close” Harry sputtered out, reaching up to pull at Zayns hair.

“Go on, come on my cock. No touching yourself.” Zayn ordered, knowing Harry could come without it. He kept up the intensity of his thrusts, knowing that would be what pushed Harry over the edge.

With a loud moan and an inaudible mumble, Harry came all over his stomach. Zayn fucked Harry through his orgasm, only pulling out once he had came into the condom. After Zayn tied the condom and tossed it, he set Harry down on the bed.

“You alright?” Zayn asked softly, wiping Harrys stomach off with one of the hotel towels.

Instead of a simple “yeah”, Harry looked up at Zayn. His eyes were hooded, he looked exhausted, but there was a smile on his face.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” Zayn smiled, helped Harry get in bed before crawling in next to him. He positioned their bodies so they were spooning, Zayns chin resting on Harrys shoulder.

Harry's answer was whispered without hesitation, “I’m in love with you. Thats why i’m smiling.” His eyes closed after that, and his drifting off to sleep was instantaneous.

"Um." Zayn mumbled out, too shocked to formulate a proper sentence. He didn't really have to, though, since Harry was already snoring.

The whispered confession kept running through Zayns mind. Whether Harry had meant it or was just overly loving when he was sleepy, Harry had said he loved Zayn. Loved. That was something Zayn hadn’t felt in awhile. Every nuance of Zayns being ached to accept the declaration. In the middle of the night, with his sleeping lover next to him, Zayn decided to accept it.

“It’s the early hours of the morning and I love you. When the sun rises and the rest of the country wakes up, i’ll still love you. It’s been so long since i’ve allowed myself to feel this way. Please know that i’m taking a risk, but you’re worth it. I love you, Harry. I’m in love and it’s with you.” The words made Zayn sound vulnerable, but somehow liberated. He finally allowed himself to feel, and being in love felt great.

When Zayn glanced over at Harrys sleeping figure before settling in himself, he could have sworn he saw him smile.

~

They visited a gorgeous garden during their stay in Florence, where they sat on a picnic blanket and talked for hours. Zayn fed Harry expensive wine and Harry fed Zayn the heart shaped sandwiches he made for him.

“We’re disgusting.” Zayn grinned as Harry wiped his boyfriends mouth gently with a napkin.

“Hey. We’re disgustingly cute.” Harry clarified, climbing into Zayns lap.

With a smile, Zayn wrapped his arm around Harrys waist. “You make me a better man, Harry Styles.”

Harry shook his head modestly. “Calling your mum was all your idea. I just told you how proud I was. You make me proud.” He took Zayns hand in his own before asking, “how did talking to your mum go anyways?”

**  
  
**

“Really good. I’m glad I talked to her. She still loves me all that jazz.” Zayn chuckled softly. “She wants to meet you.”

“My mum too. We’ll have them meet when we fly back to London.” Harry suggested softly.

Zayn simply nodded, playing with Harrys fingers as they held hands.

“What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about how in love I am with you.” Zayn smiled softly. “I made a scrapbook of all the memories we shared so far. I filled it. Can you believe it?”

Harrys whole face lit up as Zayn handed him the scrapbook. “This is the nicest thing anybody has ever given me.” He started to flip through, running his thumbs over a few of the pictures.

“It’s just crazy, in the first picture I was drug dealing and selling sex, and now i’m dating you, and i’m happy. I haven’t been happy in so long, but you make me happy.” Zayn whispered, reaching up to wipe Harrys tears, but in the process a few of his own fell.

“This scrapbook doesn’t even cover half of what we’ve been through.” Harry laughed, breathlessly to lighten the mood.

Zayn did smile at that. “It’s a sign we need to get another scrapbook, then.”

With a confused frown, Harry looked up at Zayn. “Why?”

“Well, we have so many more amazing memories to document. They haven’t happened yet, but i’m excited to experience them. With you.” Zayn explained, closing the scrapbook gently before cupping Harrys face in his hands.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, “and this tour is the best thing that ever happened to me. My dream is coming true, and it’s coming true with you by my side.”

“I’ll go anywhere, as long as you’re by my side.” Zayn whispered, pressing their lips together sweetly.

There was so much more that Harry could have said, but he kissed Zayn instead. He had endless amounts of time to express his love for his boyfriend. This was only the beginning.

**  
  
  
**


End file.
